Extreme ways
by Arissab
Summary: He wondered if she understood what she was doing. She wasn't choosing a life on the run: she was choosing him. I do not own any of the characters.
1. Chapter 1

Aaron had realized things between them were just bound to happen the very first night they had spent on the boat. The moment Marta had fallen asleep against his chest, exhausted by the event of the day and terrified by his injuries , he had known it. Now, while he was sitting among several maps trying to drawn some kind of plan to escape an otherwise sure death, his mind couldn't help but going back again at that realization: it wasn't a matter of if, it was only a matter of when. He knew that sooner or later, every boundary they might still have would fade away. But it wasn't a romantic thought : being on the run doesn't exactly give you time to process concepts such as privacy or embarrassment , let alone the gift of free choices to make, and he was very well aware that for them it would mean only one thing. They had nothing left but each other and once the boat would be left, it was going to be just the two of them. No one else to trust, no one else to rely upon, just many other people who they would have to hide from or at least lying to. He was trained to think ahead of every possible situation, after all. He liked Marta, no arguing there, he liked her a lot. She was beautiful, smart and overall she was the kind of woman who would never, ever commit herself willingly to someone like him. But none of this had been about their will and things weren't really going to change. In any other circumstance a nice, self-assured woman like her, would just look horrified at him and run away as if he was some kind of disgusting disease and he wouldn't have blamed her at all, because he was, in fact, some kind of disgusting disease. But as bloody as his hands were, as dark and sick as his twisted mind was, these were also the very reasons that kept them alive and breathing. And since it wasn't any other circumstance, he knew the doctor was actually grateful for them, grateful to him and the deadly shadow of unspeakable sins he was surrounded by. In an alternative universe, one with no special government projects, no guns and fake passports, they would have met at some coffee shop, exchange numbers and stay together as years passed by, arguing about the color of the bedroom walls or who was going to do the laundry. But such a life didn't exist, it would never exist for them. They would grow closer, they would grow feeling for each other and they would have no choice but to play along with them. But this wasn't about love or longing or desire, it was almost only about survival. Staying together on the run, meant they would be forced to give up themselves completely to each other, simply because it would happen. How many nights could a man and woman sleep together without touching each other, how many times could two people avoid the hatred talk concerning their worst fears and nightmares, how could a human being bring himself no to care about the person he was basically sharing his entire life with? Even he knew all of this was unstoppable, because as much as he questioned how much of humanity was still capable of, he knew he wasn't that far gone.

Marta was starting to understand the multiple implications of their current status of fugitives, he knew that too. She was slowly beginning to put all the pieces together about how things were going to be for them, the bigger picture becoming clearer and clearer every day. Her past was gone, and her future was not up to her to make. What they had been through wasn't an everyday occurrence and the doctor must had realized by now that not only there was no turning back, but even how they were about to live from now on was nothing she had ever experienced.

He had even tried to give her some sort of escape, a couple of nights back, offering to set her up somewhere when she could have started an entire new life on her own. It hadn't been really much of an offer, he had been aware of that, but he had tried at least to give her some kind of choice. She had not see it that way, tough.

_She was checking his injuries, sitting right next to him in the small, dirty cabin they had been sharing, and her firm expert hands of a doctor, began to tremble on his shoulder just at the suggestion of such a thing. _

_"yeah, right" she sighed " I'm a warrior, I can make it". He didn't miss the mocking tone of her trembling voice as she repeated the words he had said to her back in Manila, and he couldn't help but notice the terror in her eyes. He took her hand in his, squeezing it softly to make her face him. _

_"I'm not saying you have to" he told her in a soothing whisper, hoping she would understand he hadn't meant he wanted her gone. "I'm just saying that you can, if you want to"._

_"No, not really" she answered shaking her head " even if I wanted to, I couldn't. I wouldn't last a day on my own, and you can say whatever you want, but you know I am right" she hold his gaze, her eyes challenging him, the fear of moments before now replaced with something else : fierceness, anger. It took all of his strength not to smile amused at her reaction. _

_"I am not that naïve" _

_"Marta" he was trailed off by her finger on his lips, her eyes still focusing on his. She shook her head again, resolute, while her hands took his face closer to her, and she spoke as he was a little child who wasn't paying attention._

_"I don't want to. End of the discussion" she let him go and without another word she started working again with the bandages on his body. _

_He_ let a sigh escape his lips, a mixture of relief and worry. For the first time in his entire life he wasn't going to be alone, and as much as he knew Marta decision was only driven by her survival instinct, he couldn't help himself not to enjoy the realization just a little bit. He vaguely thought that maybe he should be bothered by all of this. But he had shrugged the idea away: he was training to think fast, he was training to deal with whatever was thrown at him by fate or bad luck. Whatever were the reasons that had brought the two of them together, it was totally pointless trying to analyze them. One sure thing he knew was that analyzing too much might get you killed, and this was the ultimate motive he had always try his best to just survive in the present.

Smiling down at the boy who was now handing him another map, he wondered briefly how much time would take for Marta to fully understand what she was getting herself into. She wasn't choosing a life on the run. She was choosing him.

* * *

Marta had known things between them were just bound to happen the very first night they spent on the boat. She had fallen asleep on Aaron chest, and when she had woken up a couple of hours later, worried about the increasing shivering of her injured companion, she had known it. She had tried to sweep the sweat away from his cringing body, from his torso and his muscular arms, doing her best not to think about the what ifs. But she hadn't really succeeded and in the end she had been trembling too, trying to ignore the little voice in the back of her mind telling her there was no escaping this man and his haunted eyes.

Now she was above deck, the suffocating wind engulfing her, while she stared at him calculating route and making plans she would probably never really understand. She thought back to that first night and she immediately felt the now familiar feeling of warmth inside of her. She knew. It wasn't a matter of if, it was only a matter of when. It wasn't a romantic thought, she was aware of that too: but it wasn't like they could hold themselves forever, especially when they were probably going to be together 24 hours a day. There was no way she was leaving him, not after everything he had done for her, not after she had realized she would have never got a chance on her own. The man was handsome, that was beyond arguing, but Marta was smart enough to consider he was a lot of other things too and she wasn't really sure she wanted to know them. She could not deny her attraction to him, though the doctor inside her kept whispering to keep in check the infatuation she had for her aggressor. Well, Aaron hadn't really been the monster in her story, but she was enough honest with herself to admit he could not be pictured as a prince charming either. And even if she still had little to none idea on his whereabouts once outside the lab, the things she had seen him do in the previous days, had given her quite a few details. In any other circumstances she would have probably just run as far away as possible from him, she would have run and she would have never looked back. She felt guilty at the thought: the man saved her life and she was sure that in alternate universe she would have never looked twice at him. Hell, she had never looked twice at him in the lab, and now that very same man, was becoming her entire world. And yes, maybe he was becoming her everything because she had nothing left, but whatever the reasons were it was unlikely they were going to change that simple fact.

Aaron was a man of few words, haunted by a ghost with his same features and a lower IQ, he was an incredibly handsome man with predator eyes who carried around his death weight conscience full of guilt and demons like an heavy backpack he could not ever left behind. And for many reasons she knew as very, very wrong, she was fascinated by him to no end. Marta knew things between them were just bound to happen, simply because she wanted them to happen. In her mind there was no questioning it, she understood perfectly that question were useless in their current situations. And a couple of nights back, when he had been trying to give her a choice, she had no doubt all. She had resolutely refused the offer. She understood his motive, she understood why he had been saying to her those things, she understood perfectly what he had been really trying to tell her. He was trained to think fast, she knew that, the man was actually genetically modified to do that. He had probably seen everything coming already, way before her.

Now, as she was approaching him at the table she wondered briefly if she should be bothered by any of this. She quickly shrugged the thought away: in this unknown new life ahead of her, there would be no time for pointless wonders. She finally joined him and sat down on the chair next to his. She knew exactly what she was doing: she wasn't choosing a life on the run. She was actually choosing him.


	2. Chapter 2

As usua,l I do not own anything. Thanks for reading.

* * *

Aaron and Marta had been on the boat for almost two weeks. As they both had predicted they had grown closer to each other, spending hours talking about new plans and past lives, although the doctor was smart enough to realize she had been the one shearing the most. While she had told him about her family, her childhood, her favorite colors and food, Aaron had said few words at best. He had explained how he had managed to escape Alaska, he had told her about the wolves and he had gone on and on talking about new routes and places to hide. But besides that he had offered little to none . Sitting on the bed in the cabin, Aaron lying next to her, she finally understood why: besides super-secret missions, weapons and martial arts, he probably had nothing to share. And she suspected he definitely didn't want her to know about any of it.

He had been an amazing listeners, asking her many questions, showing real interest in her life, in her work as a doctor, in the things she liked to do in her spare time. But now, in the dark of the night, another realization came upon her. She sighed, curling her knees against her chest as he watched him.

"you are collecting information about me, aren't you?"

He opened his eyes, a sad laugh leaving his lips " I was starting to wonder when you were going to realize that". She kept staring at him, without answering and Aaron rolled on his side to face her.

" Doc" he said, his hand taking her wrist " don't take it the wrong way. I do enjoy you talking about yourself, I do like you talking about your life. It just.." He trailed off, not knowing how to really explain things without hurting her. He sat up, his gaze travelling in the dark room. " You have to understand. I have to know certain things. If we go somewhere telling people you're my wife, I have to know what you would eat or drink, or we might raise suspicions. I have to know what you like, what you would wear, where would you go, because if I lose my hold on you, that's the only way I'll have to find you". He sighed deeply, looking back at Marta, who appeared now to be way lost in her own mind.

"No matter how many aliases I'll set you up with, you were never meant to play spy games. In the end, you'll always be just you. You'll keep drinking coffee as you have always have, your taste in music won't really change and.."

She trailed him off with an unexpected, bitter laugh. When she spoke, her voice a little bit louder than before, he could feel she was somewhere between annoyed and angry. And he knew exactly what she would said next and why.

"And don't you think it works both ways? Don't I have to know things about you too? What.." She became silenced abruptly, noticing the flames in his eyes: he was in agent-mode again, cold, distant. Scary.

"I'm a walking lie, Marta. I drink everything the person I'm pretending to be drinks, I like whatever I have to like to stay alive and I will break in pieces whatever I think might be a threat to us"

She didn't miss the "us" among his words. But her mind was too busy trying to figure out the mystery this man was, racing in the attempt to process all the information she had. After a few moments, she finally decided to ask him the very question she had been longing to have an answer for since that day in Manila. It was way of a dangerous territory, but at this point she didn't care anymore.

"what did you do? What did you do outside the lab?" She exhaled a breath she hadn't know she was holding. Marta had been thinking a lot about it, about all of this. She knew she would most likely regret inquiring him in the first place, but she had to know. "_No, you just load the gun"_ he had told her that damn day, and the accusation had never left her mind since. She was fairly conscious of her own involvement and she had to admit that she was in no position to judge anyone, let alone Aaron. Blinded by science, she had never really stopped to think about the world outside her lab, she had never brought herself to care. And it hadn't been out of stupidity, because she in fact had some ideas on the whereabouts of the _program participants_, it had been a government project after all. She had just never thought as a part of her job things such questioning their activities or the effects of the project on them. And now, she had to know. She had to know what she was guilty of.

Aaron didn't answer her right away, taking a few minutes to study her face. Eventually she heard his voice.

" Let's make a deal, Doc" he waited for her to nod in agreement, than he kept talking " I won't lie to you, ever. But you got to promise me this: if you want to ask something, make sure you'll be prepared for the answer". He took her chin in his hand, holding her gaze and when he understood she had already made up her mind, he let her go and rose from the bed.

" Do you know what a black-op is? Do you know what deep-cover means?"

"I… I have an idea, I guess" her voice hesitant. She was already regretting this. The tension in Aaron's body, the edge in his voice, were unmistakable signs.

He turned to face her. He sighed and sat down on the chair right next to the bed.

"I don't think you really do. God, I'm not even sure I really want you to" He paused for a moment, trying not to look at her, his brain racing in search of a gateway from this. But there was none really, and in the end he decided to go with the simple truth as he had just promised her. Or, at least, a part of it.

"I was stationed in Iraq, back when I joined the army, you already know that. One day my entire unit was blown up by a bomb. Well, at least that's what I've been told: I don't really remember it. The only thing I know is that one moment I was there, the next someone was stitching me up in some sort of medical facilities. It wasn't a military hospital, that much I knew: people were in and out, asking about my patriotism, my devotion to our country, testing me. And all of a sudden, I started understanding things I had never understood before and my body was healing way much faster than it should have. They were already giving me the meds, even if I didn't know what the hell was going on yet.."

He paused for a moment, realizing Marta's fingers were intertwined in his own in a tight, comforting grip.

" Kenneth was the perfect catch. No family, no friends and one hell of a reason to stay put and do whatever they wanted him to. Once he became Aaron.. I became Aaron.. " He shook his head lightly, Marta's hold tightening even more when he finally decided to look up at her. He immediately wish he hadn't: the mix of emotions in her beautiful features were more painful than any violence he had ever endured. And there had been plenty of that in his life, no doubt about that.

Marta sensed his increasing tension and she leant in to touch his face. But in less than a second her movement changed from soothing into something else entirely, her fingers lingering on his lines, tracing them languidly. He had never cared for anything or anyone, not as Kenneth and neither as Aaron, because caring was an unaffordable weakness in both of his past lives. And now, lost in the middle Of the China Sea, he found himself bothered by what she might think and for the first time in years, something was actually unsettling him. When Marta exploration was almost at his lips, he abruptly grabbed her wrists. The talk was over: yes he had promised he wouldn't lie and he was not going to. But there was no way he would take her down with him in his own personal hell.

"I've done many, many horrible things" Aaron whispered, his strong hands tightening their grasp " I faked feelings I didn't have, I sold my dignity in exchange of information, I invited evil over for dinner. If I had to put in samples all the blood I've got on my hands, I'd need a lab so much bigger than yours. But here's the thing Doc.." he let go of her hands, catching a glimpse of fear in her eyes which actually relieved him. Fear, that was one emotion he was able to deal with. " I can tell you that I regret those things, because I really do. But I won't ever tell you I regret what I became"

Marta breath was labored and heavy with fear, sadness and desire . Fear of him and everything he was, sadness for them and for their faults. And the deep, unforgivable desire she had for him, the desire to strep him down to his soul e touch him anywhere, everywhere she was able to reach.

Aaron stroke her cheek, closing the distance between them, their foreheads touching

"Don't ask again. Don't. Ever"

She nodded against him, whispering "I won't"

When he finally claimed her mouth to his, Marta thought that none of this was romantic or soft. It was anything but demanding, it was pure need. She couldn't care less. And while Aaron lied her down on the bed, tearing at her close, she thought that that kiss was just like him. Ferocious.


	3. Chapter 3

Marta Shearing was staring at her reflection in the mirror, her face flushed and her body still trembling. Few hours of sleep and a cold shower apparently weren't enough to shake away the sensation of Aaron's hands on her. After three months spent together, she wasn't really surprised anymore: she had stopped questioning the effect he had on her several weeks earlier. She wrapped herself tighter in the towel, her fingers brushing absently the writing on the top of it: _Welcome to Singapore Inn. _How they had managed to get in Singapore was still a mystery to her, but truth to be told, the whole past three months were nothing but a blur. They had moved from little towns to unknown villages non-stop and she had confused memories of different bus stations, several rooms in the middle of nowhere and uncountable faces. They had never stayed more than three, four days at best: the only time they had been almost two weeks in the same place, had been when she had got sick. She didn't even recall the name of the town or who had been the one giving her injections: the only thing she remembered was the fear in Aaron's gaze and her unfocused mind thinking that maybe he wasn't invincible after all.

Marta dried her hair with another towel, while looking at the man in the other room throughout the mirror. He was sitting on the bed, still in his naked glory, a sheet lazily wrapped around his hips and a map in front of him. A shiver run down her spine as she glanced at him, another thing she had got accustomed to in the past months. She sighed and turned her eyes off of him, trying to ignore the goose bumps on her skin and a very familiar sensation raising inside of her. It was pointless though, since a pair of strong harms were already encircling her from beyond and an hungry mouth had just found the side of her neck. She closed her eyes, leaning into him, as she felt the towel around her being ripped away and his hand reaching unceremoniously between her tights. He was just like that. He had never ask, he had just always taken what he wanted, how he wanted it. Pressed against his solid body, she had no power at all. And she didn't want to.

After that first time on the boat, Marta had often found herself wondering if everything she had known about sex until him was just a lame joke. The man was beyond good, that much was a given, but it wasn't just that. His strength was almost too much to handle and the scientist in her knew his physical enhancementhad probably a lot to do with that_. _The best part tough, was that among the sheets, Aaron let his modified nature took control, his manliness washing over her body effortlessly, owning her completely. They had hot, dirty sex, the unaffordable softness being part of another lifetime: she had never felt so much of woman as he made her feel. She hadn't put make up on in months, her clothes were anything but casual at best: yet she had never felt so much feminine, so much wanted, in her entire life. Her body was constantly glowing and her eyes had been sparkling in a way she wasn't really able to explain. She felt satisfied, she felt new energies running through her veins, she felt like the deepest, darkest part of her soul had suddenly awoken.

There were no limit or boundaries allowed between the two of them. They could not afford them and reality was, neither of them really wanted to have any. Marta had confessed him things she would have hardly admit even to herself before and she was fairly sure that Aaron knew her true colors way better than she did herself. She had never been this close to anyone, not to her family, not even to Peter and she knew exactly why: she had never depended on anyone before like she depended now on this strong, scary man who was now harshly kissing her. Air was less needed than him, because without Aaron that would be none to breath at all. And she was brave enough at this point to admit she wasn't just afraid of dying: she was afraid of losing him..

As he hold her up against the sink, licking his way down to her neck, she whispered in his ear

"What….? What if the last scientist alive was a big, fat ugly guy?"

Aaron smiled up at her, raising an eyebrow" Well, I wouldn't be doing this" As she moaned against his lips, he added "No Doc, definitely not".

* * *

Two hours later, Aaron was walking alone throughout the city's streets. He had left Marta soundly asleep in their room, leaving her a note on the bedside table: _ I'll be back in a few hours. Be ready to go._ They had to leave. Again.

The past three months had been exhausting to say the very least. They had run from place to place restlessly , they had run so much that when Marta had fainted in his arms one day, he had actually been surprised that it hadn't happened before. There had been a few close calls since they left the boat, but Marta being sick had been the worst, by all means. He had felt powerless, helpless, as he had been watching her shattered with nausea, her whole body burning up with fever. Aaron had paid one of the kid of the guest-house to go, find a doctor and buy antibiotics, thinking that she had probably contracted some sort of intestinal infection. When two hours later a shaky, probably drunk guy had came, he had thought he would have killed the man on the spot if he had only try to come any closer to her. In the end, he had given Marta the injection himself, praying that he had been right. The morning after, seeing as she was doing definitely better, he had thought that maybe some kind God existed after all. But to make matters even worse, their prolonged stay and the yelling incident with the presumed doctor, had drawn attention to them and his agent instinct had kept screaming at him to get the hell out of there. Marta had been too weak even to move instead, and Aaron had had no choice but to wait. And off course, since luck had clearly been against them, the waiting had ended with a dead body a block away from their guest-house and a couple of bruised ribs for him. But when they had been finally ready to move again, just looking at a very healthy, smiling Marta, had made him think that yes, some God definitely existed.

Walking around the streets of Singapore, Aaron wondered when exactly Marta had become his first and only concern. Maybe it had been that first night on the boat or maybe it had been already back in Manila. He shrugged mentally: it didn't matter, not to him. For the first time in his entire existence not only he wasn't alone, he was also with someone who trusted him completely. And for the love of God, he couldn't understand how she managed to do that.

He kept walking until he finally found his destination. He scanned the street, then he entered the bar he had been looking for, ignoring the "closed" sign on the door. He hadn't even made a few steps when four guys surrounded him. He looked at them for less than a moment, immediately making a mental plan to take them out. They were probably not going to do anything to him, he was quite sure of that, but it was better be safe than sorry. When one of them moved closer to Aaron, a fifth man appeared from the shadows. He was bold ,a huge scar covered his left cheek and he had an unmistakable Russian accent in his voice.

"Don't even try. You'll be dead before you can reach him" the man said and immediately the guy approaching Aaron stopped in his tracks. Aaron nodded towards the bold man calling him by his first name.

"Dimitri"

"And how should I call you, my friend? We have known each other for years and I'm pretty sure your name has never been Frank" as Aaron wasn't answering, he shrugged " well.. whatever..". He sat into a chair in the room, studying the man in front of him, which in turn, wasn't even flinching. " Are you armed?"

"Off course"

Dimitri laughed at his answer, then he gestured at his goons to go away while Aaron approached him and sat next his chair "Well, if you were here to kill me you'd have done it already. So, what can I do for you?"

"I need a favor" Aaron said simply.

" We all need something my friend. We all do". Dimitri smiled at him, but there was no warmth in it. He was warning him.

Aaron didn't even bother to worry " Yes, but if I am not mistaken you do own me a favor" Then he whispered "How's Nicole?"

Dimitri paled at the name. He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing deeply. " Are you threatening me? What the hell do you want?"

" When you were playing international criminal, back in the day, I let you and your kid live" he trailed off for a moment to make the concept even clearer " It's time for payback. I need two things from you, then we will be even and you'll never see me again" As the man nodded Aaron kept talking " First, I need weapons and I think you know what I like" Dimitri nodded again, staring at Aaron.

" Second, I need a passage". Dimitri looked at him confused, but Aaron raised an eyebrow in amazement. " Oh, now you're going to tell me you don't know anything about a cargo-ship with some of your precious storage in it, which is leaving in" he looked at his watch "less than four hours? Really?"

Dimitri looked at him shocked " How do you…"

Aaron cut him off " You should know better, shouldn't you?" he threw the man an icy smile " This is what I need: you tell your people you need a nice, little cabin for a very dear friend of yours. Everyone is going to be nice to her because she's under you responsibility.."

Dimitri interrupted him "Wait, wait. It's a she? I thought you needed.."

"Your people have already hired me for this little trip two days ago. You should really start looking for someone smarter"

Dimitri laughed amused, looking at Aaron with some kind of admiration " You've always been the best of the best"

But Aaron ignored him completely " Any of your guys come close to her, or even look at her in a way I do not like, I'll send them back to you piece by piece and I'll take down this little smuggling ring you have going on here. You tell anyone about this little arrangement we have, and I'll make sure the last thing you see it's me finishing what I started in Moscow. Are we clear?"

Dimitri nodded in agreement "You'll find anything you need on the ship.."

As Aaron stood up to leave, Dimitri spoke "You know.." amusement clear in his voice " I would have never guessed it was going to be you.." he paused waiting for Aaron to look at him " the one taken down by a woman"

Aaron just turned away and left the bar. He soon disappeared in the dark of the night.


	4. Chapter 4

I'd really like to thank everyone who's been so kind to leave a review. I hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

* * *

Aaron Wilson, formerly known as Aaron Cross, formerly known as Kenneth Kittsome, was sitting outside a bar in Mombasa, drinking lemonade and absently playing with his wedding ring.

"Mr Wilson! You're back" Abasi, the nine year old son of their neighbor, cheerfully greeted him from the street. For reasons still unknown to him, the kid seemed to greatly like Aaron who, much to his own surprise, had grown attached to the boy. Or, maybe, it wasn't that surprising after all: Abasi reminded him a lot of the child he had been once.

Aaron smiled warmly at the kid, who was now moving towards him.

"Is Mrs Wilson still at the orphanage?" he asked in swahili, once the boy was in front of him.

"No" Abasi shook his head " She went home already. She was worried. Why don't you go to her, I bet she'll be happy you're back"

Aaron nodded. He had been away in Nairobi for the past three days and since Marta hadn't liked the idea of the trip in the first place, he had no doubt she was worried. And probably pissed too.

"Yeah, I'll go in a minute" He answered the boy. Abasi gave him a huge smile and run away, back in the street, waving goodbye at him. Aaron sighed, staring at the glass in his hand: as much as right now there was nothing he wanted more than seeing her, he had to figure out a couple of things on his own first. He had to think and there was no way his mind would work properly with Marta standing just an inch apart. He wasn't addicted to the chems anymore, but after an year together, he was definitely addicted to the woman.

They had been living in Mombasa for the past eight months, as Aaron and Marta Wilson. After Dimitri's ship had left them in Maputo, they had gone their way up to Kenya, claiming to be a married couple who was spending his sabbatical leave travelling. It had been easier than expected, very few question had been asked and they had settled without much of a problem. They had spent their first week in an motel on the beach, enjoying a well deserved relax in the north part of the city, until Marta had run into Father Rudolph at the local market. In less than a couple of days she had started working at the orphanage near the priest church, offering medical care to children, women and basically everyone in the neighborhood. Working probably wasn't even the right word to use, since in fact she was a volunteer there: but Father Rudolph had offered them a little, old house next to the orphanage building so at least they wouldn't have to worry about rent. In the meantime,Aaron had kept himself busy scanning the surroundings, studying the people they had been meeting daily and it hadn't been out of curiosity off course: he had needed to have a clear escape strategy, just in case, and he had wanted to be sure who they had been dealing with. Much to Marta's disbelief, the only person he couldn't grab an hold on, had been none other than Rudolph himself and even though Aaron had been positive that whatever the man was hiding had nothing to do with them, he had still been wary of him. Marta had just kept rolling her eyes calling him a paranoid, but years of training had taught him better: so much for his paranoia, two weeks later a guy had entered the mission in the evening, gun in his hand, and he had tried to kill the priest. Aaron would have not cared, other people old debts were none of his business, but Rudolph's aggressor had made the biggest mistake of his life: he had pointed the gun at Marta. The rest was history, and the night had ended with a body to get rid of and a long chat with Rudolph.

Father Rudolph was no angel and Aaron doubted he was even a priest, which turned out to be the most helpful thing that could have happened to them. He and Aaron had the silent agreement to not ask and to not tell, because it had been very clear that neither of them was who they were claiming to be. As a thank you for the unexpected help, Rudolph had introduced Aaron to Rachid, a low level criminal involved in several activities related to the pharmaceutical black market in Mombasa. Marta had been less than thrilled in regards of his new occupation and for the first time they had had an actual fight. Aaron had been beyond annoyed at her worries: first, he had argued, money were needed, since the 18 thousand dollars left weren't going to last forever; second, Rachid had never offer him more than little storage surveillance jobs, since Aaron had been quite clear he didn't want to get more involved than that. Harsh feelings hadn't last long though: three days after the argument, Aaron had arrived at the mission with a van full of meds, clothes and toys for the kids, much to the shock of everyone who had had no clue how he had managed to do that. That morning, the look Marta had given him, filled with pride, affection and a few other emotions he had been too afraid to name, had made his heart painfully ache.

Aaron finished the lemonade, still toying with the gold band he was wearing. All in all, for the last eight months they had been happy. Or at least, they had enjoyed their life as much as they could in their situation. Marta had loved her job since day one, even if he suspected that more than anything what she was looking for was redemption from her past mistakes. Their house was nothing but a couple of walls put together, but it was theirs and the only thing they had cared about had been the huge bed waiting for them. They weren't a match made in heaven, they were a match made out of necessity, but apparently they had been working way better than most people who could actually choose their loved ones. And maybe Aaron Cross and Marta Shearing had never really walked down an aisle, but if what they had wasn't a marriage, then he had no idea what the word meant.

Aaron rose from the table and started walking towards the street their place was. After a couple of blocks, he spotted Rudolph on the other sidewalk. He joined the man.

" So" the priest said once he saw Aaron " how was Nairobi?"

He shrugged a little " Chaotic"

The other man glanced at him, smiling slightly " Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No, not really" Aaron answered, his eyes darkening with worry.

" And is this a bad or a good thing?"

Aaron sighed deeply, the fear that had overwhelmed him for the past few weeks, was now displayed all over his face " I have no idea"

Aaron lowered his head a little, his mind racing trying to find any clue that might be useful. Days ago, out of nowhere, he had started having nightmares. At the beginning he had just tried to shake the feeling away, but even Marta soft hands hadn't been enough to make the whole thing stop and his sleep had been constantly filled with memories of his days as an outcome agent. He had kept dreaming about the building in Kandahar blowing up, about the wolves, about the night in Moscow when he had let Dimitri and Nicole live. And then, memories and nightmares had blend in together: he had dreamt about the wolves eating him, the orphanage blowing up and him aiming a sniper rifle at Marta and Abasi. The night he had dreamt about shooting them, Aaron had jolted awake breathless and covered in cold sweat. Once the shivering had stopped, he had finally realized what had been wrong: it hadn't been his mind mercilessly playing with him, but his instinct warning him. Something was coming. They were in danger.

Aaron and Father Rudolph kept walking together until they arrived to their destination. The priest studied the younger man for awhile before speaking in a gentle tone.

"You should really talk to someone about it. You know.." he smiled lightly " just to let it out.."

Aaron glanced at him bitterly, sadly " Yeah, right"

Rudolph sighed, than nodded toward the door of their house " She's been insane without you. And she's pretty scared too"

A sudden wave of guilt hit Aaron, but he promptly dismissed it. He shouldn't have left Marta, he knew that, but he had really needed to figure things out. Since he had realized what his nightmares were really about, he had started looking for any possible sign of impending doom. He had gone on and on recalling every single step, every single move they had made in the past year, he had look for any leak in their cover, he had search Mombasa streets inch by inch. And when nothing had came up, he had accepted Rachid offer of a little job in Nairobi, hoping he might have found something useful there. He hadn't, though, and now he was coming back home empty, longing for only one thing: getting lost in the warmth of his wife body.

His wife. Marta was his wife. But she was also the very reason he was sure doom was coming. If he had learnt something at all in his troubled life, it had been that not a single thing is given for free. Certainly not peace, which ultimately was what the woman had been to him. She had let him buried his evil soul in her arms, she had accepted him as he was, sinful and guilty, with no more than a blink of the eye. She was his solace and his punishment at once, she was what had kept him sane, she was his redemption. And Aaron knew there was no such thing as a simple gift from fate, especially for a man like him. Soon or later, he would be served with his bill to pay and every fiber of his being had been shouting at him that that moment was definitely arriving.

As he said his goodbye to Rudolph and approached their house, Aaron tried to take his mind off his preoccupations. He opened the door, his eyes immediately searching the room. When he finally spotted her, sitting on the bed with nothing but his old shirt on, he mentally groaned: amused, he thought that the sexy Doc was going to be the death of him.

As soon as the thought formed in his mind, Aaron smile fell: he would have die for her. And he was probably going to.


	5. Chapter 5

Again, I'd like to thank everyone who's been reading.

* * *

Marta Wilson, formerly known as Marta Shearing, was sitting on the floor of her empty house, a cup of tea in her hand. She felt her head pounding and a sense of nausea breaking through her body, as her gaze travelled blankly outside the window. She wasn't even sure what time was as the darkness of the African night engulfed everything. It didn't really matter though: as Aaron had left the house half an hour before, without so much of a word, Marta had finally known what to do: she had gone through his drawer, taking out his black notebook .

Now she was leaning against the wall as the stolen, forbidden item was just right there in front of her. She closed her eyes for a brief moment, fighting hard to keep her breath steady and to gain the courage to read the damn thing. Marta took it in her hands and stared at the cover for what seemed like hours. Betrayal, she thought sadly, was nothing more than a piece of paper.

Aaron had been writing records of his missions as an outcome agent since they had settled in Mombasa. She had been watching him scrabbling down for days, page by page, a cold, distant expression in his gaze, as the memories hadn't belonged to him. When she had asked the purpose of it all, Aaron had barely answered her, vaguely muttering something about insurance and plan b options. She had seen his discomfort though, his entire posture tensing every time she had even just eyed the black notebook. Marta had never questioned him any further: an year before, on a Filipino boat lost in the middle of the China Sea, she had promised him she would have never inquired his past again. And she had been always faithful to that vow. Until now. Marta took another deep breath, her chest heavy as the feeling of guilt slowly subsided. She had her reasons, she had plenty of pretty good reasons to open it. She wanted to know. She wanted to help him. She wanted to make this all stop.

It had all started with his nightmares. Needless to say, Aaron had resolutely refused to talk to her about any of it and Marta had been forced to watch silently as his dreams had been torturing him endlessly. He had began sleeping less and less, he had started calculating routes and studying all kind of maps again, he had checked one hundred and one times the weapons he had hidden all over their place. She had been beyond worried, enable to understand what had been wrong with him, oblivious to the unexpected demon who had been eating him inside out. And then, the morning before his departure for Nairobi, she had felt her own blood freezing in her veins, realization descending upon her: Aaron had been sitting at the table, journal in his hands, and when she had came behind him, languidly kissing his neck, he had said it. He had said a short, teasing phrase that had brought her back to another lifetime, "_Are you trying to put me down, Doc?". _And all of a sudden she had been in her lab again, the handsome man in front of her just a number in a science project. As simple as that, in the latest days he hadn't been Aaron Wilson, her husband, he hadn't been Aaron Cross, the stranger who had burst into her house to save her life. He had been N.5.

He had been N.5 few hours ago too. Marta had seen him at their house door, watching her, and she had noticed immediately his mood, a chill running down her spine. And then, without even sharing a word, he had been all over her: they had had sex like two animals afraid of being haunted, they had touched as if they hadn't known already every little inch of skin, they had been Dr. Shearing and N.5, two stranger tearing each other life apart. Aaron had never been a gentle lover, but that, that had been a entirely different kind of roughness. He had been angry, taking her over and over again, as all he had been trying to do was to show her his true colors and scare the hell out of her. But she hadn't backed down: it had been a challenge and she was not going to give up. She would have never given up on him. Marta had felt him everywhere on her body, inside her body and she had craved him as if he hadn't been there. And he hadn't been really there, because his hands had been touching, his mouth had been leaving nasty marks, but his mind had been far, far away. It had been utterly good as much as it had been utterly wrong and painful waves of release had shattered her in pieces. She had never felt so lonely in her entire life.

When she had started crying beneath him, Aaron had abruptly stopped. He had raised himself on his elbow, his breath heavy and labored, a thunder in his beautiful blue eyes. He had collapsed defeated by her side, careful not to look at her, lying onto his back. Moments had passed, and Marta hadn't been what to do. Until she finally had found the courage to voice the unspoken words that had lingered between them for months.

"_You know right? You know that I love you.."_

But as soon as she had spoken, she had regretted it. Aaron had jumped from the bed, still avoiding her eyes and putting his clothes back on. And he had left. Just like that.

Marta sighed deeply, still reasoning there was no way to earn his forgiveness after reading his notes. She mentally shrugged, she didn't really have a choice anymore. She wasn't sure how or when, but somewhere in the middle of their faked lives, Aaron had become the only thing that mattered. She had to know. As her body was aching and her heart was loudly beating in her chest, Marta opened the notebook.

She went through the first page, then the second, then the third. She started shaking violently. At the last page, she was desperately sobbing.

* * *

Marta jolted awake as she registered a sound coming from the door. She panicked for a brief second, still half asleep, until she figured it was just Nadira knocking and calling for her.

"Doctor Wilson? Doctor Wilson it's me.."

Marta was still confused and she glanced around the room. Nadira, another volunteer at the orphanage and Abasi's mother, kept knocking insistently at the door, her voice raising.

"Marta? Marta open up..Are you alright?"

Marta looked again at her surroundings, the bright light of the morning telling her she must have overslept. Then, as she started to rise from the bed, memories of the night before rushed through her mind: Aaron coming back home, the bed cracking under them, the black notebook on the floor. She took a deep breath, trying to control a sudden wave of nausea, her head throbbing.

"Doctor Wilson? Come on, ..Marta.. " Nadira kept calling for her.

"I'm coming, give me a minute" Marta yelled back, searching for something to wear. She finally found her shorts and she put them on, while opening the door just enough to let the other woman in. When Nadira enter the house and looked at Marta , she raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Oh My.." the woman remained speechless as she fully took in the sight in front of her and Marta blushed head to toe, finally realizing the state the house was: sheets were thrown all over the floor along several items of clothes, giving a very clear picture. Marta was too embarrassed to even speak.

" Well" Nadira said clearing her throat "I.. We ..we were worried. You know, you're never late.. it's almost eleven.."

"Eleven?" Marta blurted out in shock. She had definitely overslept. But probably it wasn't that surprising after all. The past night had been exhausting to say the very least, exhausting and terrifying. Nadira was speaking to her again, but she wasn't listening at all, her mind too busy remembering some of the neatly written words she had read the night before. _Kandahar, January 2006: twelve civilians among victims. Moscow, March- August 2005: infiltration in the Russian mob. Yemen, February-March 2006: assassination of three known terrorist_.

Marta shivered as another wave of nausea hit her, harder than before. She covered her mouth, running towards the bathroom, Nadira calling after her. She threw up all of her desperation into the sink, trying hard to catch her breath, vaguely hearing the voice of the woman in the next room. She tried to respond to her, but she failed, as the nausea kept coming violently. After a couple of minutes, the door of the bathroom was shut open and she felt a strong arm wrapping around her waist, trying to steady her, while a callous hand was gently taking back her hairs. It wasn't Nadira.

"Doc.." Aaron whispered softly " Are you sick?"

She shook her head, as he took a towel near them and started brushing it over her neck. Marta leant back into his shoulder, his hold tightening to catch her.

"Can you stand? Marta.." she gave him an almost imperceptible nod " All right.. ". Aaron guided her towards the bed, exchanging a worried glance with Nadira, who was watching them with a deep frown of concern. As Aaron helped Marta lying down, the other woman wet a clot into the sink and handed it to the man. He smiled to her thankfully.

"I got her. You can go, don't worry"

The woman sighed, nodding at him " If you need anything.."

"Yeah, I know.." Aaron answered as the woman took her direction to the door. When she closed it behind her, he turned his head to Marta and sat down next to her. She was staring at him, her wonderful eyes filled with sadness and fear. He stroke her cheek, then looked around the room. He saw the notebook opened on the floor.

" I read it" Marta said simply and Aaron had an expression she couldn't quite figure. He sighed and brushed her hair away from her face.

"You need to rest, Doc.." As he was getting up she held his hand still on her, stopping him. Aaron looked at her and as an unknown force had taken him, he slowly knelt beside the bed, touching her forehead with his. "I'm not going anywhere.."

She wanted to said something, but his finger on her lips didn't allow her to " Sleep. You need it.. We'll talk when you wake up". Marta nodded against his soothing touch, closed her eyes and fell almost immediately into darkness.

* * *

Miles and miles away from Mombasa, in a conference room in Washington D.C., a picture was thrown on the table. Eric Byer frowned at the sight: it was a shot of a bold man, a huge scar on his left cheek.

" Dimitri Smirnov?" Byer sighed in frustration " How is this supposed to help us out? Smirnov is dead. He was killed along his daughter in Moscow" he said, putting the picture away.

Zev Veldev smiled at him, an enigmatic expression on his features.

"This was taken two days ago. In Singapore" he calmly replied.

Byer stared at the picture for a moment, then nodded at the other man who was now handling him a thick folder. _Outcome N.5, Name: Aaron Cross._


	6. Chapter 6

I'd like to apologise for any mistake I've made. I should have probably told you this from the beginning, but here we are now: english is not my language. I don't really want to make excuses, I'm just trying to explain myself. I promise I'll be more careful from now on.

On another note, I'd like to thank everyone who's been reading and everyone who's been so kind to leave a review. Any kind of constructive criticism is always appreciated

* * *

Aaron laid himself quietly on the bed next to Marta, watching her in the light of the late afternoon. He wrapped an arm around her waist, taking her closer, careful not to wake her. She had been sleeping almost the entire day, after he had helped her out of the bathroom, oblivious to everything happening around her. Abasi had come a few hours earlier, bringing tea, meds and a message from Rudolph, while Aaron had kept himself busy cleaning the mess in the house. Marta had barely moved, lost in a deep sleep: she must have been exhausted. He was pretty tired too by now, he hadn't rested properly in weeks after all, and the events of the past night had only made things worse.

Aaron felt Marta snuggling even closer into his bare chest and he instinctively took her in his strong embrace, half of her body rolling on top of his. He closed his eyes, his hands softly brushing her back, as her voice kept playing in his head what she had told him the night before. _You know, right? You know that I love you?_. He sighed to himself, then whispered in her hair "Yes, Doc, I know that"

"You're an ass" Marta answered startling the man. He hadn't realized she was awake, but as soon as he heard her speaking, a light hearted laugh escaped him. Aaron tightened his hold on her, as Marta raised her head, her chin on his chest, and looked him in the eyes. But the laugh soon faded and he stared down at her, his gaze darkening with sadness and worry.

"I'm afraid I'm something much worse than that" He said, his hands in her hair. Marta buried her face in his neck, her breath soothing against him.

"How much pissed are you right now?" She whispered in his skin. She was feeling his heartbeat, it was strong and steady. Just like him.

"You can't be pissed at your woman when she's sick. You can't be pissed if you've been nothing but an ass to her" he repeated the word she had just said smiling down at her. He shook his head a little " Look, Doc.. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry for last night..I shouldn't have.." He trailed off as she must have known already what he meant. And she did.

"I'm sorry too.." She said softly.

"Don't be.. I'm not mad at you, if that's what you want to know"

Marta suddenly untangled herself from his embrace and rolled to her side to face him. She studied him for a few seconds, the dim light of the late afternoon drawing shadows on his features.

"You knew I was going to read it". She whispered. It wasn't a question.

"I'm actually surprised you waited this long" He said, his gaze travelling through the wall in front of them. " Doc.." He sighed, trying to find the right words " You are a smart woman, you know who I am. You didn't really need to read that thing to get the picture".

Marta raised an eyebrow in surprise "Then why did you.."

"It is not your burden to carry" Aaron interrupted her, trying to explain himself " These are my ghosts, I didn't want them to haunt you too.." He looked back at Marta, his arm on her waist again.

"It doesn't work that way, you know?" she said bitterly " Besides, I'm not an innocent victim. I've got plenty to be blamed for too.." She was silenced by his thumb gently stroking her lower lip. Aaron sighed deeply, that was exactly why he had always avoided that conversation. Marta was right, she had been involved too in the insanity of the project, still he meant what he had just said. It didn't matter who had loaded the gun, but who had been the one pulling the trigger.

But Marta's mind was already miles away, her brain filled with images of his day as an outcome agent. A tear ran down her cheek.

"The Russian guy.." she said, her voice trembling " he tortured you"

Aaron stared at her, his calm almost unnerving. It amazed him that among all the things she now knew, she was talking about one he hadn't been responsible of. He lightly shrugged at her.

"It was probably well deserved, Doc" he told her, wiping the tears away from her face " besides.. I was trained for that too, I knew how to handle it". He saw the glint of shock in her eyes, as understanding of his words sank into her. He already knew where her thoughts were going and before she could have said them out loud, he took her face in his hands and spoke with determination.

"Don't do that.. don't that to yourself. It's not worth it"

Marta wasn't really listening though, her heart shattered with guilt and fear. She wondered how he had managed to stay sane during the years, how he had managed to turn out to be the good man he was. Images passed in front of her eyes: Aaron cooking for her when she had stayed late at work, Aaron teaching baseball to Abasi and the other children at the orphanage. She was fairly sure he didn't even realize how much the kids loved him or, for the matter, how much she loved him. It was kind of ironic, really, considering that he was none other than the boogeyman himself, he was none other than the villain she had created out of him. She had been scraping and scratching him, chasing a science mystery, while other people had toyed with his mind, using little pills to take control over him. Yet, here he was, calm and collected as usual and Marta wondered how, among all the death, blood and lies, he had managed to remain human. What had made her stomach lurch while she had been reading the notebook, it hadn't been how many people he had killed or how many aliases he had had: she had been disgusted with herself, disgusted with what she had unknowingly been a part of. It had been unbearable the realization of how much pain she had ultimately caused, unbearable the thought that the handsome, frightening man now in front of her, had been her victim. And Marta couldn't really understand how, after everything he had been through, the only thing that really mattered to him was her safety.

"Stop it, Doc.. Stop it now" Aaron voice brought Marta back to reality. The ability he had to read her wasn't surprising anymore and she knew she could hide nothing from him. She tried to avoid his penetrating eyes, tears in her gaze, as Aaron rolled them until his body was on top of hers and she couldn't move under his weight.

"Listen to me" he said, holding her face with his hand to force her to look back at him " And listen carefully, Doc, because I'm not going to say it twice. It is not your fault. You didn't do any of those things, I did." Marta tried to free herself from his grip, but he pushed her even tighter into the mattress, holding her in place " I did have a choice. But I always turned my back on it because all I cared about was getting more chems, all I wanted was to be smarter. And I already told you: I don't regret what I became and I never will. Do you know why? Because as much as they tried I never became the monster I was supposed to be" Aaron let his grip loose on her and brushed gently his fingers on her forehead, his gaze softening. " It is my price to pay, not yours. And all in all, if I feel the guilt, if I still can feel the shame, well.. it means that I'm still human"

Aaron let her go and raised himself into a sitting position. He felt Marta's arms encircling him from behind, her lips on his shoulder. He took her hand and kissed her palm, his fingers tracing the wedding ring she was wearing.

"What 's with the nightmare?" she asked him, breathing the words on his skin. Aaron shook his head lightly.

"I'm worried, Doc. I can't switch off my agent instincts and all they are telling me right now, it's that something is up. I'm not sure we are safe anymore" He felt Marta's hand trembling and the panic starting to raise in her body.

"Do we have to leave?" She asked, trying to keep her tone steady.

"Maybe, maybe not.. I don't know yet.." Then he added "I'm worried that no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, you will still get hurt".

"You can't protect me from everything Aaron. You can't pretend that from yourself"

Aaron looked at her, a sad smile on his face "I'm your husband. That's what I am supposed to do." He turned to look her in the eyes " I'm not a fool, I know we ended up together because we had no choice. But honestly? I don't care, I don't care how I got you as long as you're here" He sighed, his finger toying again with her gold band "I don't wear my ring to sell a cover, Marta, you really mean everything to me, I don't have to lie about that"

Marta reached out for him, gently brushing her hand along his jawline, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew it had taken a lot for him to admit that, to admit that he did, indeed, have a weakness. Aaron stopped her hand, he still had something he had to tell her.

"Yesterday night, when I came home and I saw you here, all I could think was that there's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe.. Nothing.. And that's why I want you to promise me this.." He looked at her and for the first time in an year Marta saw his eyes filled with tears.

"No matter what happens, no matter where I am, If it comes to that.. just run and don't ever look back" He saw her trying to argue and he immediately shut her up " Doc, I'm serious. I'll do everything I can to keep both of us alive, but I have to know that you'll look out for yourself first"

As the meaning of his words clicked in her brain, Marta couldn't help the quiet sob that escaped her lips " I can't promised you that"

"Yes, you can…" He took her face in his hands, desperation clear in his tone " I don't care if I get caught, I don't care if I die.. I have to know you'll be okay, I have to know you won't come after me"

As tears were now freely falling on her cheeks, Marta stared at him: he looked haunted and exhausted. And she finally understood what had been torturing him for the past weeks: fear, fear for her. She studied his tired eyes, his stiff body, she saw the strain in his muscles : he really needed sleep.

The moment she spoke the words, she knew they were nothing more than lies, but if that was what would give him the peace he was craving for, then she didn't really mind.

"I will" she whispered, her forehead touching his, and she caught the relief in his gaze and his body relaxing at her words. She guided his head on her shoulder, lying them both back on the bed. In less than a few seconds, Aaron was finally sleeping.

* * *

Aaron awoke that morning to the smell of coffee and sounds coming from the kitchen. He looked around and found Marta standing near the table, filling her mug as she read the news paper. She spotted him and gave a bright, satisfied smile.

"How did you do that?" He asked, his voice still grumpy.

"What?" she retorted, while joining him, another cup of coffee in her hand.

"No nightmares. I slept like a baby.."

She laughed " Ah, ah.. I am that good after all.." She winked at him, as Aaron sipped his drink. He caught as he tasted the liquid.

"Yeah, but your coffee still sucks, woman" He laughed as she swatted him in the chest. Aaron laid back on the mattress and looked at the ceiling. A thought suddenly formed in his mind.

Marta felt his mood changing and her smile fell a little.

"What?" She asked him in a more serious tone.

Aaron stared back at her "I think I got a plan"


	7. Chapter 7

As always, I'd love to thank everyone who's been reading :D

* * *

Eric Byer was definitely not enjoying his day. Piles of documents and folders were covering his desk and as he threw an annoyed look at them, he thought that the entire week hadn't been much more pleasant either. Aaron Cross had been one hell of an agent and going through four years of activity, studying every single move he had made, wasn't that easy. Byer sighed deeply and took another file, trying to shake away the exhaustion: reading everything was necessary. Cross not only had successfully managed to get off the grid for the past year, but apparently had blatantly lied about his missions too. Smirnov being still alive was enough proof of that and now Byer needed to assess the damage. It wasn't an easy task, though, since Agent 5 had known all too well how to cover his tracks, especially from them. Making people smarter hadn't been the brightest of the ideas, after all. And if the outcome project had undoubtedly been risky since day one, now the concept was reaching a complete new level of danger.

As the door opened and Dita Mandy came in, another folder in her hands, Byer let go of the document he was reading.

"What do we have?" He asked.

The woman sat on the other side of the desk, frowning.

"Not much. He's been in Singapore for the past two years. He's trafficking weapons, drugs, nothing major. At least not for his standards"

Byer nodded at her thoughtfully: Smirnov, a former KGB agent, had been one of the most powerful man of the Russian mob, connected to many terrorist groups. Enhanced or not, how Cross had managed to take down the whole organization, had been beyond impressive. Why he had left the man alive, thought, was still unknown, even if Byer did have some clues.

"I want more intel. I want to know everything, just.. quietly. No need to scare him off. We need to know if and when Cross contacted him"

"Why would Cross contact him?" Mandy asked surprised " He's smarter than that.. We all know he doesn't really need the help"

Byer threw her a nasty look as she hadn't been listening at all.

"Doctor Shearing" He said simply.

The woman shrugged exasperated " How do we even know she's still with him?"

"Have we found her?" Byer replied without losing his temper. As she wasn't answering he added "Then yes, she's still with him. And yes, Cross could go anywhere and do anything, but not with her in tow. If he didn't go to Smirnov, he went to someone else" he said, pointing at the documents on his desk.

"He might have killed her, have you thought about that?" Mandy asked " None of this" she added gesturing towards the various files " screams merciful to me"

Byer shook his head and shown her a picture of a blond girl, who wasn't more than twelve, thirteen years old.

" Smirnov's daughter. One of Cross's duties under Smirnov was to watch her"

"And.. you think he got attached to the girl?" Mandy said, incredulously. " Are you serious? C'mon.. Have you read what Smirnov did to him when he started being suspicious about his identity? Have you seen the photos?"

Byer barely shrugged. He had seen the pictures, he had read the report, still he was quite sure Nicole Smirnov was the reason her father was still breathing. Cross had never been more than an highly trained assassin, yet the man had always had way too many concerns. Byer remembered very clearly their conversation in Kandahar, how the agent had been upset about the entire mission. And he recalled his own surprise too, noticing how the man, after everything he had done, had still got some kind of moral left.

Byer sighed and went back to the real issue, ignoring completely what the woman had just said.

"There is no way he would kill the doctor. It's not how he operates. Shearing helped him viraling out, at the very least he feels responsible for her.."

"At the very least?" Mandy asked, interrupting him. She paused to study the man, than she stated "You think they are involved"

Byer raised an eyebrow at her, disconcert on his face.

"And you don't? C'mon, Dita. It's been an year, an year they spent off the grid. A man and a woman, probably alone all the time, possibly posing as a couple… What do you think? Maybe they don't even like each other, but surely they are sleeping together" Then a vicious smile spread on his lips " And if we got any luck left, maybe he does care about her"

Mandy glanced at him, but before she could say anything, Byer spoke to end the conversation.

"Let's just pray to find Cross. Because if he won't go down, we will"

* * *

A muffled scream of pain broke the silence in the hallway of the ambulatory and Abasi glanced up at Aaron, his teary eyes filled with pure terror. As another scream, louder this time, came from the door right next to them, the little kid hid his face in the man's shirt and Aaron hugged him tightly. He exchanged a worried look with Father Rudolph, as the door opened and the sounds became even clearer. A moment later, Nadira came out hurriedly, searching for needles and bandages in the locker beside them and Aaron spotted Marta in the other room, frantically moving around something out of his sight. He sighed and patted lightly Abasi's head.

"C'mon buddy, let's get out of here" Aaron told the kid, taking his hand. Rudolph glanced at them, nodding in approval.

"I'll let you know.." the priest said to the other man, as Aaron guided Abasi outside the building.

The fresh breeze of the night welcomed them once they were on the street and the pair started walking in silence towards the Wilsons's house. Once inside, Aaron made the kid sit on a chair: Abasi still hadn't said a word, the frightened expression on his face making him look tinier than he was and the man was getting increasingly worried about him. He lightened the oil lamp on the table, already aware electricity was out of question at that time of the day, then went to the sink and opened the valve, but no water came either. He wasn't surprised though: they had been living in one of the poorest neighborhood of the city and such things had become luxuries they couldn't always afford. Aaron resumed to open a bottle of water and knelt down in front of the kid, trying to wash his shaking hands.

Two hours earlier, Abasi had found a girl curled up in a corner on the street, her body bloody and bruised, her clothes ripped in pieces. The kid had called for his mother, who in turn had rushed to their door looking for Marta. It had been painfully obvious what had been done to her and had been even more devastating when they had realized who she was: Aisha, a cute, shy fourteen years old girl who had been living at the mission since her parents had died. Aaron didn't really know much about her conditions besides what he had seen in the street: she had shown several nasty cuts on her arms and legs and she had clearly been badly beaten.

Aaron looked at Abasi and raised from the floor, throwing away the now empty bottle. The child was clearly in shock and all the questions everyone had kept asking him after his discovery, hadn't really helped. Rudolph had gone on and on inquiring about what he had seen, how he had found the girl, until Aaron had shot the priest a deadly stare, telling him to stop immediately since the poor child had been scared enough already. Aaron sat down to another chair next to Abasi, trying to figure out a way to reassure him.

"Abasi.. look at me" he whispered in swahili, his voice soft.

"I don't know..I.." the kid muttered, shaking his head " I didn't see anything.. she was just there..I"

"Hey, hey" Aaron said, laying a comforting hand on the kid's shoulder "I know.. I believe you.."

The kid finally looked back at him and after a moment he spoke " She's my friend, you know?"

Aaron nodded at him "yeah, I know". Silence settled again between them and Aaron stood up and started looking on the shelves to find something edible. After a couple of minutes he heard the boy speaking.

"Did you have many friends?"

"What?" Aaron asked, a little confused

"When you were little" Abasi explained "Did you have many friends?"

Aaron looked at him, a small smile appearing at the corner of his lips. The ability children had to change topic was beyond his comprehension, but for once he was relieved. Maybe talking about something else would have been good to take his mind off the events of the evening.

"No, not really" he answered, sitting down again. He had made sandwiches and now he was handing one to Abasi.

"Why? Your parents didn't want you to play outside?"

Aaron couldn't help the laugh this time, the innocence of the boy amusing him. He shook his head at the kid.

"I didn't know my parents. I grew up in an orphanage too.." the man answered without losing his smile. His upbringing had stopped bothering him a long time before.

"Oh.." the kid said in surprise. Abasi thought for a couple of seconds, before asking in a more cheerful tone " That's where you met her? Was Doctor Wilson there too?"

"No" Aaron shook his head again " I met her when I was older. She was my doctor"

Aaron smiled again at the kid and for a moment he thought about their cover story, which was as closer to the truth as possible. Much to Marta's surprise, he had kept things as simple as he could: she had been a doctor in Bethesda and he had been one of her patients. They had fallen in love, eloped and decided to take time off to travel. When Marta had asked if it wasn't a little too risky, Aaron had told her it would have been way more dangerous to elaborate a complex tale she couldn't remember every details of. Proximity to reality had really helped her, since she had been seeing many different people every day and once in awhile she had to give them something. Besides places and names, Marta Wilson and Marta Shearing had the same childhood and the same family and apparently Doctor Wilson had agreed to go out with one of her patients because she owned him an apology for not recalling his name. Aaron was pretty sure Marta had been very close to strangle him when she had heard that part of their cover.

Aaron came back to reality as he noticed Abasi had fallen asleep on the table. He stood and picked up the kid from the chair, then put him into their bed. The man sighed deeply and sat on the floor, his back leaning into the side of the mattress. He looked around at the room, studying his surroundings: he was going to miss that place very much. The house was nothing more than a big old room, the walls were cracked almost everywhere, still, the place was the only one he had ever felt as his home. They had loved their life there, they had gotten accustomed to the people around them, Marta had always been smiling and laughing. She had even admitted to him, a couple of months back, that her clean, white lab had never given her as much as the dirty, smelly ambulatory had. Science had been interesting and challenging, but there was no comparing against the giggles of the children at the mission, or the gratitude other people she had been helping had shown to her. Overall, Marta didn't have regrets and the only topic she never spoke about was her sister, simply because it hurt too much and it was the one thing she could never have. Besides that, though, life had been pretty good for them.

They didn't love each other, because love was hardly enough to describe what they had. Love was supposed to be about romantic dinners, flowers and candles and they had been having none of that. Love was meant as the desire to spend your life with someone, not as the unspeakable primordial need they felt towards one another. And Aaron knew they literally had nothing, still, in the past months, they actually had everything.

But forever didn't exist in his book. And now, their little cramped home had to be left. Plan A, was very simple and was nothing more than another cover: Aaron and Marta Wilson had still a couple of months left from their leave of absence and they wanted to travel a little bit more. Plan B, wasn't much more complicated either and it was the one he had shared with Marta: they needed to change location, at least for awhile, so in a couple of weeks they would be departing from Mombasa. Plan C, was an entirely different story though. Plan C was Agent Cross's plan and nobody had the slightest clue about it, even the beautiful woman who had been posing as his wife. She would figure it out eventually, Aaron knew that, as much as he knew she would tried anything to dissuade him. But he already made his decision and as painful as it was, he was sure he was the right one. Marta was his decision, Marta was the only thing he ever cared about in his whole life. Plan C, was as simple as it got too: he would make himself as bait. And maybe, things would finally come to an end. For now, though, they just had to wait. He had to wait, until the right moment would come.

Aaron sighed deeply, raising himself from the floor, as he heard Marta and Nadira voices coming closer from outside. He glanced at Abasi sleeping form, then he went to the door as the two woman entered the house. They both looked pretty shaken.

"How's the girl?" He asked immediately

"Well.." Marta answered in a whisper, sadness and pain in her voice " She's going to be fine.. Physically, at least.." She shook her head to prevent the tears from falling and Aaron took her hand in his.

"He's sleeping" he said to Nadira, nodding towards Abasi.

"How's my boy?" She asked, as she approach the kid.

"A little shaken" Aaron told her, while the woman tried to wake the child "Let him sleep. I'll take him home" He added. He left Marta's hand and moved closer to Abasi.

"You don't have to.." Nadira try to argue, but the man had already picked up the child in his arms.

Aaron walked his way outside the house, Abasi hanging onto him. He glanced at the kid and he felt a thud in his chest: the child had grown on him, his little smile had warmth his heart since day one. He was definitely going to miss him, he was sure of that.

And in that moment, in a dark, dirty street of Mombasa, Aaron just whished he would get the chance to see him again.


	8. Chapter 8

As much as I'd love to say otherwise, I do not own any of this. And again, I just want to thank everyone who's been reading. Enjoy.:D

* * *

In a little house in the middle of an unknown street in Mozambique, Marta was staring at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing nothing but her underwear and a deep, desperate frown was on her face, while behind her Aaron was busy checking his gun. She took a deep breath, her trembling hands reaching for the brush on the table. She tried to comb her hair, but she was way too nervous to succeed and the brush hit the floor with a thud. She watched silently as Aaron knelt down to take the item and she kept staring aimlessly until she felt his palm on her cheek. She leant into his touch, closing her eyes, trying as hard as she could to stop the shivering.

"Doc.." Aaron whispered " It's going to be all right. You can make it"

Marta shook lightly her head and looked back at him.

"It's not me I'm worried about" She tore her gaze away from his beautiful, angry eyes as she took another deep breath. She glanced at the bed, at the soaked sheets and at the weapons among them and she thought that the room smelled of gunpowder and sex. It smelled of them, it smelled of him, it smelled of manhood and violence.

Two weeks had passed since they had left Mombasa and come back to Maputo. They had rented an house and she wasn't even sure in which part of the city they were, not that it really mattered anyway. They had been going out a lot, visiting several restaurants and café every day and she had had absolutely no clue of what Aaron had been up to. She had argued with him, because it didn't take a spy to understand that coming back in Mozambique was a risk and how dangerous it was for them to go in such public places, but he had barely acknowledged her worries. When a couple of days later they had ventured to the airport, buying tickets for Cape Town, everything had finally become clear: he wanted to be found. And later, back in the apartment, she had been panting in terror as Aaron had explained what his plan really was. Marta had yelled at him at first, then she had tried to calmly reason how crazy the whole thing sounded, but off course, Aaron had just shrugged at her, the confidence and the determination in his eyes warning her to stop immediately. Hurt and terrified, Marta hadn't spoken to him for the whole day and the day after that, consuming the floor as she had paced back and forth through the room. On day three of that insanity, Aaron had shoved her against the wall and she had started hitting him and calling him all kind of names, until her desperation had made her tearing at his clothes and kissing him with all the force she had been capable of. They hadn't left the place at all for the rest of the week, as all she had wanted to do was feeling his body against her own and getting lost into him. They had been scratching and bruising each other's skin and Marta hadn't be able to stand the unbearable void she had felt every time he hadn't been inside of her. She had seen the end coming, she had felt the loss which was just about to overwhelm her entire being, and she had done the only one thing that had made sense to her: she had tasted him, she had loved him, she had given him everything she still had. Aaron had gone along with that, the emotion and the fear in his own eyes hitting her like a thunder, until one night he had stopped her, arguing there was no way she could endure it anymore. And he had been right off course, the man was always right: her body had been aching everywhere, her inner thighs had been burning, and every muscle had been screaming for mercy. But then, as she had been straddling him on the bed, something she hadn't been sure how to name, had washed all over Aaron and Marta had suddenly found herself lying on her back, his mouth brushing lightly at her skin. For the first time since they had been together, he had been sweet and gentle, touching as he had wanted to memorize every little inch of her, kissing every bruise and every mark as he had moved in a slow, torturing pace. And when it had all been over, still lying on top of her, he had said it. "_You know, right? You know that I love you"_. As he had been whispering against her hair, Marta had thought that she wasn't going to die for a bullet or for a stab wound: her death would be losing him.

Marta sighed again and decided to ignore her own image in the mirror. She watched Aaron as he stood up and walked towards the bedside table, searching for his backpack.

"You don't have to do this" Marta said, her voice louder this time "I.. I don't want you to do this"

" I won't have this discussion again, Doc" The man answered resolutely, not even looking at her.

Marta rose from the stool and came closer to him. She took the bag from his hands, throwing it aside, watching as annoyance was starting to get onto him.

"We can hide.. we can go somewhere else..we.."

"No" he abruptly stopped her. As she saw her trying to replicate, he rapidly grabbed her by the waist and turned her, his bare chest against her back and his arm encircling her in a tight hold. She didn't even try to fight him: she couldn't move at all and that was exactly what he wanted.

"We go somewhere else.." he whispered slowly in her hear and the sharpness in his tone made a chill run down Marta's spine " and then after three, four months we'll have to leave again. And again, and again, until we won't even bother to look at each other anymore, until even death will seem as a better option.." he paused, sensing her fear, but he didn't let her go " Do you really want to live like that?"

Marta closed her eyes, her hand finding Aaron's on her chest. She felt his soft lips against her earlobe and she intertwined her fingers in his.

"I don't want to live without you.." she said in a whisper and she felt his body tensing even more.

He sighed deeply against her, trying to keep himself focused "I swear to God, Doc.. If you even try to come after me, I'll shoot you myself" Aaron slid an hand on her leg, his fingers grasping roughly at her inner thigh "Here maybe.. it is not life threatening but I can assure you it hurts like a bitch" His hand then travelled above on her torso, stopping right under her breast and Marta let out a little gasp of pain as she felt his hard grip on her skin "Or maybe.." he paused to bite her neck, keeping her in place effortlessly as she tried to escape his mouth "maybe I should just beat you unconscious and leave before you can realize it"

Marta knew he was trying to scare her. He wasn't succeeding tough, he couldn't succeed, because there was literally nothing on earth that would have made her fear him. And she also knew that voicing that thought would have been a mistake, but she did it anyway.

"I'm not afraid of you. I won't ever be afraid of you, Aaron"

"You should be afraid for yourself" He whispered in her ear, but his tone was a complete different one now, soft and almost pleading "Please.. Don't make this harder than it is already" He lightened his hold on her and brushed gently his lips on her shoulder, then he let her out of his grasp.

"Get dressed, Doc" Aaron told her as he reached for the backpack again. "We are leaving in twenty minutes"

* * *

"I can't believe this" Dita Mandy said, watching intently the monitors in front of her "I thought he was smarter than that"

Zev Veldev turned to look at her, shrugging "Everyone can make mistakes"

"He doesn't" Eric Byer interrupted them entering the room "He wanted us to find him"

The other people glanced at him, as Byer sat down and explained himself.

"He knew we were going to dig into his missions and he knew we would have found out about Smirnov and their trip to Maputo. Do you really think they have been there this whole time?"

Mandy nodded, understanding his point "We sent a unit to the airport, Cross and Shearing are supposed to leave in five hours"

"Call them back" Byer replied "They are not going to Cape Town. Cross bought the ticket just to be sure we got the message"

"Larx 1 is after them. He'll take them out when they come back to the house" Mendev said, nodding at the other man.

Byer sighed "He has something planned. Otherwise he wouldn't have gone through all this trouble.." He trailed off for a moment, his mind racing for answers he didn't have. " Tell Larx he has to kill Cross first. The Doctor can wait, I don't care"

Mandy and Mendev looked at him in surprise and he rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"If we kill his woman in front of him, I can assure you we will be as good as dead. If she dies and he doesn't, the next thing coming it's a very pissed super-soldier aiming at our heads.. and he won't miss"

* * *

Aaron took Marta's hand and led her out of the restaurant. He scanned the street for a second and started walking, the corner of his eye catching the dark haired guy who had been following them since they had left the house. After a couple of blocks they turned to the left and Aaron squeezed Marta's fingers. She was still shaking and he just hoped she wouldn't panic and do something stupid.

"Doc.." he addressed her, his hyper vigilant mind studying every details of the surroundings "what do you do now?"

Marta swallowed before answering his question. He had spent the past three days interrogating her endlessly about everything.

"Dock n.3 on the east side of the harbor. He's waiting for me"

"Where's your gun?" He inquired, turning again at another corner.

She sighed "Left ankle…" before he could said anything, she told him what she already knew he wanted to hear "Money are in my bra, when I enter the building I go on the right and run towards the dock. And I'll send the package on day 45"

Aaron looked at her, smiling slightly "Good.." He paused as they arrived to their destination, an abandoned old shack in an empty street near the port. Aaron stopped in front of her and took her face in his hands. "I'll come back to you, Doc..". He kissed her and wiped the tears from her cheeks. He heard the sound of footsteps coming closer: they were out time.

"Aaron.." she panted, her gaze looking at something standing behind him.

He nodded "I know.."

Aaron turned away from her to find a gun pointed at him. The other man was taller and bigger than he was, but Aaron managed to twisted his arm anyway, in a quick, fluid motion, the weapon falling to the ground. He hit the agent in the face and then he felt a knee into his stomach, but he didn't lose his balance. Aaron felt his opponent sliding behind him and as the man was trying to immobilize him, he yelled at Marta who was still standing at the door.

"Run.."

The agent elbowed Aaron hard in the back, knocking him down to the ground and his attention turned to the woman who was now running in the shack. He immediately pointed another gun at her.

Aaron watched as his worst fear was becoming reality. Seconds seemed like hours, he heard vaguely Marta's footstep in the building, he caught the sound of the shot, while his mind was mercilessly replaying in slow motion memories of the past year. An house in Maryland and a room near the airport, _"I'm not just a science project, Doc"_. Marta being sick in Malaysia and yelling at the doctor to stay away from her. Dimitri and Singapore, _"What if the last scientist alive was a fat, ugly guy?"_.The orphanage and Abasi, Marta moaning against him, Marta holding him to fight nightmares away. Marta, her beautiful face, her soft hair in his hands, his fingers tracing her wedding ring. "_You know, right? You know that I love you"_

As the bullet hit the wall of the shack, the building immediately blew up in pieces.

* * *

"Larx 1 is dead…" Dita Mandy said to Eric Byer. The man was staring silently at his desk. The worst had just happened and he couldn't bring himself to accept it.

"They found a message on him.." She handed a file to the man. He opened it, it was a first report of the mission. He read the transcript of the paper they had found on the body.

_"Do you know what a Sin-Eater is?"_


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews, they really mean a lot to me.

On another note, I want to say that the previous chapter wasn't supposed to end as it did, or at least it wasn't when I started it. I hate cliffhangers when I read a story, I really do and I wasn't planning on writing one. But point is, half of this story kind of came out on his own and that was no exception. I added many things that weren't supposed to be in the story at first and when I was writing the explotion part it kind of made sense to finish the chapter as I did. Well, I just hope you didn't hate me too much for it..:D

* * *

Dimitri Smirnov entered a crowded restaurant and took a sit at his usual table. The guys with him scanned the place for any sign of danger and when they found none, they sat at another table closer to the entrance. While Smirnov was ordering his breakfast, a voice from behind interrupted him.

"How is going your life in Istanbul?"

Smirnov didn't have time to answer, nor to process what was happening, as the man who just spoke was now sitting right in front of him.

"Agent Cross.." Smirnov said, an hint of humor in his tone "Aaron Cross.. I don't know why, but I've always thought your real name was something like John or Paul…" he threw an icy smile to the other man, studying him carefully. After a couple of seconds the smile was gone "Ironic, isn't it? I finally find out who you really are and I kind of feel insulted by your people. They want you way more than they want me.."

Aaron didn't reply, he just stared at him with an unreadable expression. Smirnov shook his head slightly, looking around the room.

"Why you didn't kill me when you had the chance?"

Aaron glanced at the door as few customers came in. When he realized they were no threat, he looked back at the other man.

"Don't flatter yourself, you deserved way worse than what I had planned for you.." he paused for a moment, sighing bitterly "but the people we love shouldn't have to pay for the mistakes we made.."

Smirnov stared at him for a brief moment and he spotted the gold band on Aaron's finger.

"Yeah..I'm really sorry for your woman.."

Aaron tore his gaze away from Dimitri, without answering. The Russian man decided that was the right moment to hand the former agent the bag he had brought for him.

"What's your plan now?" Smirnov asked, as Aaron took the item "Kill them all?"

"That would be way too easy.." he said, standing up and leaving the place. Once outside, Aaron looked up at the sky: it had been 45 days since that night in Maputo. Today it was day 45: he had to go back to the US.

* * *

Jennifer Lawrence passed an hand through her short, dark hair, as she watched the waves crashing softly on the shore. She was an aspiring novelist and she had moved to that little town to write her first book without disturbance. Demre, on the Antalya Province of Turkey, was a lovely place on the Mediterranean coast, a little paradise with welcoming people and beautiful beaches and in that time of the year tourists were very few, making the place even more enjoyable.

The woman sat down on the armchair she had on the porch, the pain in her ear suddenly stronger and she tried to relax at the sight in front of her. But truth to be told, Jennifer Lawrence hated that place and she had come to highly dislike the sea in the past weeks: the beautiful crystal blue color of the water reminded her too much of someone's eyes. The house she had been living in was way too big for her loneliness, the king size bed in her room felt nothing but empty and cold. The first night she had even tried to sleep in there, but as she had tossed and turned searching in vain for a pair of muscular arms to surround her, she had realized she couldn't do it. The bed hadn't been touched again, the immaculate blanket constantly reminding her of other sheets, usually soaked in sweat and in the strong scent of someone else. Yes, Demre seemed a lot like paradise: but Jennifer Lawrence, formerly known as Marta Wilson, formerly known as Marta Shearing, would have exchanged it with the hell of the demon she loved, without much of a second thought.

As the pain in her ear was subsiding, Marta wondered how much longer was going to take for it to heal properly. Luckily enough the damage wasn't going to be permanent, but that hadn't really spared her from the nasty look Aaron had given her the night of the explosion, the night of her death. She had been supposed to run as soon as the guy had come, thus she would have been already a block away once the building had been blown. Aaron had wired the shack himself, giving her a watch and several instructions she had to follow to the letter: how many steps to take inside, how fast she had to run once she had been out. But off course, as she had seen the killer pointing the gun at him, she had forgotten about half of it and she had been very, very blessed the only damaged had been a couple of scratch and a bleeding ear, because she had been way too closer than they had planned. Aaron hadn't been supposed to find her after either: but while fighting the agent, he had realized her wrong position and once everything had been over and he had finally reached her, the terror in his voice had been unmistakable. In the end though, as she had been still in one piece, she had departed as planned on Yusuf's boat, alone, watching a familiar shadow getting lost in the darkness of the dock.

Marta closed her eyes, the fresh breeze of the early morning relaxing against her skin. The cup of coffee in her hand was still untouched and she had to force herself to eat at least one of the cookies she had in the plate in front of her. Lately, she had been eating less and less: her cooking skills had always been questionable but to make matters even worse, now everything seemed to have a different taste in her mouth. She didn't care about food anymore, she had too many worries on her mind and she felt way too lost and alone. Today it was day 45, today it was exactly 45 days since she had seen him last. She didn't know where he was, what he was doing, she didn't even know if he was still alive and she could do nothing to shake away the feeling that had been paralyzing her since Maputo. Overall she had literally no clue about what she was going to do without him and as much as she wanted to believe in his promise, she couldn't stop herself from fearing the worst.

It had taken Marta some time to finally understand why Aaron had definitely killed Marta Shearing. Her fake death was meant to stop anyone from chasing her, that much had been pretty obvious since the beginning, but she had never understood why Aaron hadn't just done the same for himself. Back in Mozambique, he had explained to her things had to be done after her departure, things like manipulating the morgue results, because the human remains lying among the shack debris, had clearly belonged to someone else. But there were other reasons too, Marta was now sure of that. Aaron had never really cared about taking down his former superiors, mostly because he knew his chances were pretty slim against the entire organization and the only thing he had ever wanted was freedom from the program and from the pills, which he now had. But as he had told her that night in Maputo, during the past year he had found so much more than what he had been looking for and since he himself was the living proof that karma was indeed a bitch, he couldn't just wait aimlessly for the end to come. Even her supposed death wasn't going to last indefinitely because years would have passed, but soon or later the truth would have been discovered: the only purpose underneath it all, it had been to buy him some time. Once she had been safely out of the picture, he had finally been able to switch his focus from her safety, at least for awhile, being him the only target left. Not to mention Aaron was himself part of her new cover: everyone was expecting the former agent to seek revenge for her death and not only he was going to act upon that expectation, he was going to use it against them too.

Marta put the mug she was holding away, hugging herself tighter in her sweater, Aaron's sweater, as shivers run down her body. The man was basically giving up his own life for her and she hated him for it. She hated him, because as selfish as it sounded, she had never asked for any of it. She hated him, because somewhere along the road he had gone from super-soldier to super-hero and heroes were character belonging only to tragedies, never to fairytales. She hated him, because somewhere along the road he had made her change too, from the distant Doctor Shearing blinded by science, to an unnamed, loving woman blinded by him. She hated him, because now, lost in the middle of Turkey, she could do nothing but constantly wondering. She had to hate him, because this, this couldn't be love: it was dependence, it was addiction and it was eating her inside out.

Jennifer Lawrence stood from the chair, as she spotted Mehmet, one of the fishermen, walking towards her house, his index finger pointing at her porch. He was chatting animatedly with another man, someone she didn't recognize right away. When she finally did, a content smile spread on her lips: he wasn't who she had been longing to see since her departure from Africa, but at least he was a friend. And today was day 45: she had to give him the package.

* * *

An hour later, Marta and Father Rudolph were walking on the beach. After an heartfelt hug and a cup of coffee, Mehmet had left them alone and now the pair was enjoying the warmth of the sun and the scent of the sea. Rudolph studied the woman beside him for awhile, taking in her pale face and her tired eyes.

"You look like hell" He said to her in all seriousness.

Marta laughed "You sure know how to charm a woman, don't you?"

But the man ignored the joke and kept staring at her "Are you alright?"

Marta glanced back at him with pleading eyes. She didn't want to talk about it, she wasn't ready to tell anyone about it and for the past month she had constantly asked herself if this hadn't been some kind of punishment from fate. Sitting on the sand, she decided to quickly change the topic.

"How's everyone at the mission?" she asked.

Rudolph joined her on the ground and played along with the new subject.

"Nadira hates the new doctor. The new doctor hates everyone: he keeps complaining about me not giving the house to him.." he smiled " he just doesn't get it. It's still your place"

Marta felt almost a physical pain at the mention of their apartment in Mombasa and she vainly tried to stop the memories from flooding in her head. Especially that one, the one that had been torturing her mercilessly since her arrival in Demre. It was about a night before Aaron's trip to Nairobi, before his horrible nightmares, a night when they had stayed up until sunrise, talking, joking and making love. She still remembered finally falling asleep in the early morning, his soft mouth brushing on her lower back and his hands soothing against her shoulders. She still remembered herself incoherently thinking that life had been far from perfect, but that moment couldn't have been really a part of life, because that moment had been perfect indeed. And that night had been the last good memory she had, because two days later Aaron's nightmares had begun and everything had gone down to hell.

Marta realized Rudolph was still talking and snapped back to the present, trying to keep her heartbeat steady.

"Abasi keeps watching the street hoping to see Aaron coming back." The man threw her a bitter smile " He's always playing with that damn robot.."

Marta laughed at the reference. Aaron had given the toy to the kid for his birthday and Abasi had been ecstatic about it. And Aaron had seemed a child himself, the child he had probably never got to be, as he had suggest to the boy new games to play. It had always amazed her how good he was with kids even if his ability was probably due to the wrong reasons: he had been trained to endure anything and to deal with any kind of situation and that was certainly why, when he was among children, his patience was endless and he succeeded even when the strangest of the requests were made. It didn't matter anyway, because the boys and the girls at the orphanage had just loved him from the very first day and Marta was confident Aaron had never realized how much at ease he was with them.

"You know.." Rudolph kept talking " the day you left, the police find the guy who attacked Aisha.. He was barely breathing, he had a broken nose, a broken arm, he was basically a mess of bruises.. He was so terrified he actually spilled the beans out without even being asked.."

Marta looked at him in surprise, then as a thought formed in her mind, she nodded in understanding. She had an idea about who was responsible for that, the same idea Rudolph had. They didn't share it, though, it was totally pointless: the guy had deserved it and they both thought that Aaron had done the right thing with him. He had to be grateful he was still alive and the beat he took, as nasty as it might have been, was still nothing comparing to the pain and the shame Aisha was going to feel for the rest of her life.

Marta and Rudolph fell in a comfortable silence as they looked at the horizon, a few clouds passing by in the sky. After minutes, she felt her friend's gaze studying her figure, analyzing her expression and she saw a glimpse of realization in his dark eyes. Eventually, she heard the man speaking again and this time his voice was filled with sadness.

"Does he know?" he asked in a whisper. He saw Marta tensing up at his words, he recognized instantly the fear in her shaking hands. He was right, after all.

Rudolph tried to calm her down "There's nothing on earth the man wouldn't do for you and you know that. He loves you.."

Marta's expression made the priest stop talking. The woman sighed deeply, her eyes filled with tears she wouldn't let fall. She clean the sand away from her clothes and for the second time that day, she avoided the topic. Talking about it would have made it real and she couldn't do that, not yet. Ignoring completely what her friend had just said, she stood up and glance back at her house

"C'mon, let's have some lunch..And I have something for you"

Marta started walking, taking a deep breath. She appreciated the man's concern, she really did, but today she had more important things to do. Today it was day 45 and she had to send something to the US.


	10. Chapter 10

As always I do not own anything. Thanks for reading.. Enjoy :D

* * *

On a rainy November day, Marta was walking towards her house, a few bags in her hands. She shivered as the wind hit her skin and she picked up her pace, trying to reach her destination as soon as she could. The weather was getting worse, the sky was getting darker with heavy clouds and she heard thunders from the distance. She was so busy trying to escape the coming storm, she didn't notice the four men standing on the porch of her house until she was right in front of them. She stopped in her tracks, her breath cut in half, but it was too late. One of them started walking closer to her: he was bald and he had a huge scar on his left check. His voice had an unmistakable Russian accent and as soon as he spoke, Marta froze in panic, her bags dropping to the ground,

"It is really a pleasure to finally meet you.. Doctor Shearing.."

* * *

Aaron walked slowly through the old building door, still checking the guy on his trail with the corner of his eye. He slightly flinched as he sat down, the wound in his hip still aching: the fight in Istanbul hadn't been too much brutal and he had overpowered his opponents easily enough, yet Dimitri's men had managed somehow to stab him. On day 45, Aaron had been supposed to take a plane for the US: instead, he had found himself bleeding on the floor of his hotel room with two bodies right next to him. Now, after ten days of running through out Turkey, here he was, sitting in the church of St Nicholas in Demre.

Aaron had known Smirnov had been playing him since he had entered the restaurant. He already had his suspicions and the Russian had basically confirmed them right away: "_they want you way more than they want me"._ They weren't just words and his enhanced mind had immediately read between the lines: "_they came, they asked, they want me to take you out"._ He wasn't really surprised though: Dimitri was a former KGB agent and one of the most dangerous criminal he had ever met. Back at the outcome headquarters had probably seemed as the fastest solution to reach an agreement with him: after Maputo, it didn't really take a genius to realize Aaron was going to ask for his help again. He had needed information, he had needed documents and few other things only someone in Smirnov's position could have supplied. But if betrayal had been expected, the fact that the Russian had given him everything he had asked for, had been surprising indeed. Once Dimitri's guys had been taken out, Aaron could have still departed as planned: what had stopped him, had been a picture one of the men had in his pocket. It was a picture of Marta.

Aaron tried to find a more comfortable position on the bench, as the man who had been following him was now sitting on the opposite side of the church. He studied him from the distance, the photo he had retrieved in Istanbul now in his hands: it was an old shot, probably belonging to her days at the lab and she was wearing her white coat, her hair combed in a ponytail. She looked beautiful, but that wasn't really new and Aaron sighed deeply as he stared at the picture. His longing for her hurt way more than the stab wound, or any other injury he had ever sustained. It had been almost two months since he had seen her last: nightmares had come again, as long as sleepless nights in which he could do nothing but playing with memories of her in his arms. He felt her everywhere, he heard her voice constantly whispering in his mind. He knew there was no escaping her and her wonderful smile, because along the road Marta had become a part of him, the good part in him. She had managed to dig her way into his being, she had managed to find, buried deep down into his darkness, a soul he hadn't even known he still had. Laying next to her he wasn't Aaron, or Kenneth, or anyone else, because he didn't really need a name to know who he was. He was a man, he was human and he was hers.

Aaron put the picture away, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his hip, then he stood to leave and noticed the other man doing the same. He was positive nobody knew she was still alive and breathing, at least not yet and that was a huge relief to him. But point was, they were doubtful: yes he had manipulated DNA result himself, but Dimitri and his daughter were supposed to be dead too, after all. The entire chasing through Turkey had only one reason: they wanted to be sure he wasn't hiding her. Aaron glanced one more time to the insight of the church, a frown of concern dancing on his face. He had never believed in any God, simply because he had been evil himself, he still was evil himself and right then the only thought he had was about how to cause death: Smirnov was going to die very soon and this time, for real. But as he finally exited the building, he couldn't help the pray in his mind. He was praying to find her before they did.

* * *

Marta watched as the men were searching the house. The guy with the scar had made her sit on the couch and he was now standing in front of her. A chill run down her spine as the man's gaze studied her up and down, an icy smile on his lips. He sat next to her and Marta couldn't stop the shiver as he took her hand and laughed, while his finger toyed for a moment with her wedding ring. She felt her stomach lurching in protest at the man's touch: Aaron used to do that. Aaron had always played with her gold band every time her hand had safely been in his. But Aaron had a matching ring on his own finger, Aaron was her husband and he had the right to do it as he much as he wanted to. This man was nothing but a disgusting stranger instead and the hint of vodka she smelled on him was making her nauseous. She yanked her arm away from him, trying to distance herself a little bit more: she definitely suspected he would have not taken kindly her bile all over his expensive shoes.

Smirnov laughed amused at her reaction and stood up, slowly walking up and down the room.

"It was quite rude of me not introducing myself" he looked at her, nodding thoughtfully "I'm Dimitri Smirnov. I guess you could say I'm an old friend of your.." he trailed off for a moment, a smirk on his face "Well, I'm not sure how I should call him.. I mean, it's not like your marriage is real, Doctor Shearing. Though it does amaze me how proudly you wear that thing.." he said pointing at her ring, then he added " you know, a saw one pretty similar a few days back"

Marta couldn't hide the panic anymore. She knew the man's name, it was in Aaron's notebook and she knew exactly who this guy was. He had been the one torturing Aaron, he was a dangerous and powerful criminal and if she had been scared before, now she was terrified. Yet, the thing her brain registered sooner, was the last mention he had made: he had seen Aaron and not so long ago. She felt the nausea coming back as she frantically wondered what that could mean for him.

Dimitri kept talking, pondering her reaction "And love it is indeed.. You have assassins in your house, just waiting to take you out and all you are worried about is him.. I'm quite impressed, I have to say.." he paused as he leant his back into the wall behind him "Do you even know who he really is? What is he really capable of? He's no prince charming, my dear.."

Marta looked up at him, her eyes flaming in anger. She knew perfectly who Aaron was: he was the man who was putting his life on the line for her, he was the strong, fearless man whom she belonged to. And maybe right now she had no chance of surviving, but that didn't mean she was going to take insult easily. The Russian was right: she was proud of her ring, because she was proud of being his wife. For the first time since she had found Dimitri on the porch of her house, Marta spoke to him, her voice steady and calm.

"If you are here to kill me, then go ahead and do it. Just.. just spare me the pep talk.."

Smirnov raised an eyebrow at her and held back a laugh. He watched her for a few seconds, then shook lightly his head.

"I could have told your people you were still alive. I didn't, though, I told them there was no sight of you.. And they believed it, off course, after all, the show he put up in Maputo was very convincing" the corner of his lips turned into an half amused smile "the guy has always been the best.." he sighed and glanced at his men who were still searching the place "I have a debt with him, you know? And I always pay my debt.." he looked back at the woman, shrugging "And that's why I won't kill you.."

Marta took a deep breath, several thoughts racing in her mind in search of an escape. She found none though and she had to listen as the man kept talking.

"But I still have to take him out. And if I think about it I'm not sure I'm doing you any favor right now. Once he'll be gone, they'll find you so fast you won't even have the time to realize it, because you don't have any of his skills, you have no idea about what to do..So maybe.." he said getting closer to her " I could just spare you some pain.." He sat again next to her and brushed slowly his hand against her arm "Maybe I should kill you, after all.."

Marta trembled violently at his touch, her stomach lurching painfully. In the past two months nausea had been a constant, unwelcomed company, but right now it might have been an unexpected strength. As the idea formed in her mind, she covered her mouth with her hand, while the other gripped at the couch as she was looking for support.

"I'm known to be a gentleman.." Dimitri said, noticing her moves and her pale color "And you seem to need the restroom.."

Marta nodded silently and stood from her sit, thinking that maybe she still had the slightest of the chance. The man followed her upstairs and opened the bathroom door, studying the room for a moment: there was only a small window on the left wall, it was unlikely she could go anywhere. He let her inside and exited, closing the door behind him, while Marta opened the valve of the sink, letting the water running. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, but she wasn't really seeing anything, her brain putting together memories as fast as it could. Sighing in fear, she eventually reached for the loaded weapon hidden behind the white closet. Smirnov had been right, she had none of Aaron's skills, but in more than a year with him, she had learnt indeed, a thing or two. She took another deep breath and she decided the moment had come.

Marta quickly opened the door and pointed the gun at Dimitri, her hands firm and her eyes filled with confidence. She didn't even flinch, she didn't stop to think: before he could even realized what was happening, she shot him twice in the head.

* * *

Pamela Landy sat at her desk in her home office, sighing as she took in her hands the package she had retrieved from a safe deposit box. A few days earlier, she had found an envelope among her mails, containing an address, a serial number and a key. Now, here she was, frowning in front of the unknown treasure: she didn't know what to expect, she didn't know who had sent it.

She took a deep breath and opened the package. The first thing coming out was a folder and the files in it seemed to be some kind of scientific research on chromosomes and genetic mutations. She read just few words, then she proceeded examining what was left in the box. The second item was a plastic bag containing a lock of dark blond hair and she stared at it astounded for a moment. The woman sighed deeply as thoughts were suddenly forming in her mind: she didn't like them, at all.

Pamela Landy glanced at the window, then she took out the last thing in the box: it was a black notebook. This time she didn't stop after a couple of pages: she read it all.

* * *

Marta stared blankly as the lifeless body of Dimitri Smirnov fell to the ground. She saw the pool of blood forming on the floor and she heard the men downstairs shouting something she didn't understand. She closed her eyes for a second and just as she was doing that, out of nowhere someone grabbed forcefully her from behind and putted an hand on her mouth. Against all her instincts, Marta relaxed immediately: she knew those arms, she recognized instantly the soft breath caressing her ear. And she would have recognized everywhere his strong, masculine scent.

"That was very well done, Doc.." Aaron whispered against her and even if the screams from downstairs were getting closer and louder, even if she couldn't believe he was actually there, she didn't miss the amazement and the pride in his tone.

Aaron let her out of his grip and took the gun from her hands as he asked "How many?"

"Two in the house, one outside.." she managed to answer, still shocked by his appearance.

He nodded "Stay here.."

Marta watched as Aaron run down the stairs. She vaguely heard gunshot, the sound of glass breaking in pieces and a painful scream. She looked at Smirnov's body still on the floor, she thought about what she had just done and she couldn't feel any guilt. Marta shook her head at the dead man in front of her: he had been right, Aaron wasn't a prince charming. He was definitely something better.


	11. Chapter 11

**Warning: **The first part of this chapter is rated **M.** It's not really that graphic, but still, if you don't feel comfortable with it, go ahead and just read the second part.

And again, I want to thank everyone who's been reading. Enjoy:D

* * *

Marta peered out of the window one more time, the rain still pouring heavily outside. She studied the street for a moment and when she finally saw a familiar shadow walking his way to the house, she let go of the curtain in her grip and sat down on the bed. She tried to steady her breath, she curled her hands underneath her legs to stop the tremor, but she failed miserably both times and she sighed in defeat, thinking that her heartbeat was probably louder than the thunders ripping the sky. Apparently, her brain and her body weren't working together anymore. Her mind was clouded with a thousand different worries, it was filled with words she knew she would have to say out loud once Aaron was back and it was utterly paralyzed by the fear of his reaction. But her body, well, her body was a complete different story: it seemed to have a life on its own, it seemed like it wasn't even listening to her rational reasoning and every muscle, every bone inside of her, every limb, was just trembling in anticipation. A familiar warmth had been raising in the pit of her stomach, a well known sensation had been brutally breaking throughout her. She hadn't seen him in two months: the prolonged absence of his firm hands upon her, of his hungry mouth against her skin, felt now like a physical, unbearable pain her body couldn't stand any longer.

After Aaron had taken down Dimitri's guys she had joined him back downstairs, still shocked by his appearance and by everything that had just happened. He had barely paid attention to her, muttering something about hiding the bodies and a delivery truck of fish departing from a gas station and he had disappeared almost immediately. Marta had just stared at the door open mouthed and it had taken her several minutes to finally put herself back together. She had wondered aimlessly around the house for awhile, her empty gaze travelling on the blood and the mess all over the floor, until realization had suddenly hit her. She had started cleaning, mopping, collecting broken glasses and pieces of furniture, but it hadn't been until she was safely in the shower, three hours later, that she had fully understood the situation: Aaron was there. Immediately, panic had settled into her: he was there and the moment to finally face reality had come along with him. She had dried herself somehow, her head spinning in search of answers, she had put a blouse on, uncertainty washing all over her: she needed to tell him, she had to tell him, before anything else they had to talk. Still, as her legs hadn't really been hers, she had walked towards the bedroom, the same bedroom she had never wanted to be in for the past two months: as soon as she had seen the untouched mattress, every rational thought had just gone down to hell.

And here she was now, sitting and waiting impatiently as she had never been with a man before. Marta closed her eyes for a second, she heard his footsteps on the stairs, coming closer and closer as a little voice in the back of her mind kept telling her how wrong this was, how much she was going to regret this. But she had no control over herself anymore and she knew that all too well: when it came to Aaron, she didn't have any kind of control, she didn't have any kind of self-preservation. And she blamed him for it, because he had thought her how to aim, how to shoot, how to hide, but above this all he had thought her how to rely upon her instinct. She blamed him, because he had made her fluent in his own language, a language where words were usually unneeded, a language where feelings were hardly voiced out loud: Aaron didn't talk, he acted upon his feelings. And she had learnt to do just the same.

Marta watched as the door slowly opened and a pair of amazingly blue eyes greeted her. She could still hear her brain arguing in protest, she felt her breath breaking in her throat. Aaron closed the door behind him and leant his back against it, his piercing gaze dancing above her as she was some kind of long lost treasure. Marta rose herself from the bed, she noticed his clothes soaking wet and she smelled the rain on him as she was just an inch apart. She closed her eyes as his hand came on her neck, his thumb stroking at her chin, she felt the heaviness in her chest as his finger trailed down leaving soft, wet traces of rain on her skin. He didn't say a word, he just looked at her, his intense stare devouring her while his hands suddenly started working at the buttons of her blouse, in slow, calculate movements. He took his time, touching every little inch of skin that was being exposed to him, he watched as she shivered, his fingers tracing softly the lines of her breast. He moved his hands slowly until they were on her shoulders and slid the shirt from her arms, looking at it as it dropped soundlessly on the floor. Finally, Aaron wrapped his arms around her naked waist: she bumped into him, her knees weak and her skin burning as his lips were crashing onto hers.

After that, Marta lost completely her grip on reality. She didn't even know what exactly they were doing, what he was doing to her, because the one and only thing she was aware of was how he was making her feel. Later, she would have probably not remembered how they were moving, how she was tasting and sucking him, how his tongue was darting all over her trembling body. And it didn't matter, it didn't matter at all, because the tiger was finally home and it was having her for dinner. She wasn't even sure how long they had been tangled in each other, when she absently realized the pain in her hand: she was lying on her stomach as Aaron was thrusting hard and deep into her from behind, his mouth ferocious against her neck, and she was gripping so hard at the headboard her palm was bleeding. But that didn't matter either, because the predator was finally home and he was destroying her piece by piece. And everything was just a blur and she had no clue how she had ended up straddling him, or how minutes later he was above her again, his craving lips sucking at her breasts, at her abdomen, at her sex as he was trying to suck the life away from her. Marta vaguely recognized her own voice moaning, screaming her release once, twice, she unclearly acknowledged nipping at his hair as he pushed himself harder inside of her, fast and desperately as his own existence depended on it. Only when Aaron looked her in the eyes, the flame in his gaze burning her soul to ashes, Marta was able to form a coherent thought. She bite roughly at his lower lip and then she was lying again on her stomach, her hands again on the headboard: she hated him. She hated him because he was a tiger, he was a predator, he was the boogeyman. She hated him because he was an evil who had been forged in iron and violence.

She hated him, because without him she was nothing at all.

* * *

Hours later, Marta laid exhausted onto Aaron's chest, listening as his steady heartbeat pounded in her ear and taking in the softness of his hands in her hair. She sighed deeply, her fingers tracing lightly at the lines of his muscles: none of them had yet said a single word and she wasn't really sure breaking the silence was such a good idea. She felt the panic starting to raise again inside of her and trying to calm herself a little bit, she continued her soft exploration of his torso. Her hand was almost at his hip, when she felt him flinching underneath her and she took a look at the spot her palm had been touching: stitches were covering what seemed to be a stab wound and a few of them had ripped open. Marta immediately raised herself, sitting between his legs.

"What's this?" she asked, concern clear in her voice.

Aaron didn't even open his eyes and just shrugged at her "A souvenir from Istanbul.."

Marta shook her head at his stubbornness, then studied carefully his entire body. When he had come back to the house, in the heat of the moment, she hadn't even thought he might have been injured and now she was examining him inch by inch. He had a fading bruise on his left arm, his knuckles were scraped in dried blood and he spotted a few cuts on his right leg. Marta frowned as she noticed a huge, fresh scratch on his chest.

"How did you get this?" She asked as her fingers gently brushed over it

Aaron laughed amused at her question and he opened his eyes to look at her. He raised an eyebrow at her in disbelief, a teasing smirk on his face

"Doc.. that was you half an hour ago.." and then, as he saw how she dropped her mouth open in surprise, Aaron added amused "Actually, I think I might have a few of these on my back too.." he laughed again, and now he was plainly mocking her "I'm not surprised you didn't notice.. It seems like you have really missed me.."

He winked suggestively at her, then laughed again as she playfully slapped his arm. Marta tried to fake a shame she didn't really feel, but in the end she could do nothing to stop the bright smile spreading on her lips. They stared at each other for a moment, then, the humor in Aaron's gaze disappeared and when Marta spotted a dark shadow replacing it, her own smile fell immediately. A shiver run down her spine, as she translated with no efforts what his gaze was telling her. He knew. He knew everything already, off course he did and Marta mentally cursed herself for her stupidity, because she should have known better: nothing could ever be missed by him. She tried to steady her shaky voice, while Aaron's fingers brushed softly against her wrist to reassure her.

"How long have you known?" she asked in a whisper.

"I figured it out in Mombasa.." he said, throwing her an apologetic look. He sighed, already aware what her reaction was going to be and he silently nodded to himself, as he saw the anger flaming in her eyes and Marta jumped up from the bed.

"You what?.." she blurted out, while reaching for her blouse on the floor "How? How did you even know?" she put the shirt on, her hands shaking "I had no idea until I came here..I.."

"I know, Doc" he interrupted her "You were so worried about us leaving you didn't even realized.." But Marta become furious at his words and threw her hand up in the air, shutting him up.

"And you didn't think maybe you should have told me? Really?" Marta had completely lost it by now. She was ranting out in disbelief, pacing back and forth through the room and Aaron sat on the bed, watching her quietly, trying to ignore the guilt he was feeling. He knew it was only a matter of minutes before she would get the entire picture.

"Do you have any idea what I've been through for the past months?"Marta kept talking "How terrified I've been, how scared I was?" as he wasn't saying anything, she snorted at him "Yeah, off course you do, you're a freaking enhanced bastard, you know everything.." she stop walking to look at him "And what I am supposed to do, uhm? Please, enlighten me, because I've been torturing myself trying to find an answer.." she trailed off, several thoughts racing in her brain. And when she finally realized what his reasons had been all along, she couldn't stop her tears from falling.

"This is why you've been doing this, isn't it?" she asked, her voice broken, her head throbbing. She sensed the nausea coming back once again and she bumped her back into the wall behind her, almost falling to the ground. She closed her eyes trying to stay on her feet as the entire room was spinning and her legs were trembling, when she felt Aaron strong arms picking her up and carrying her back to the bed. He laid her down gently, kneeling besides her as he softly stroked her throat to check her pulse. She was panting and her face was pale.

"Doc, look at me.." He whispered softly and she obliged, staring back at his calm and reassuring gaze "Breath.. C'mon, Take a deep breath for me" He watched her carefully, his hand still on her pulse point "Do it again.. C'mon, another one.."

Aaron looked intently at her for a few minutes, until her breath was steady again and her heart race was back to normal, a deep frown of concern on his face. He brushed her hair away from her forehead, his hand cupping her cheek.

"Have you seen a doctor at all?" he asked, even though he already had an idea about the answer. She didn't say a word, she just threw him a nasty look and Aaron sighed, trying not to lose his patience.

"Marta.. it's been quite a miracle you didn't have a miscarriage the night of the explosion. I don't need to be a scientist to get that.." he paused for a moment than he added "And you clearly have been far from fine. You have lost weight, Doc and the nausea has probably been killing you. I don't even want to ask when was the last time you eat properly.."

He stopped talking, realizing Marta wasn't even listening to him. She was too busy chasing her own thoughts and just to prove he was correct she asked him something else entirely

"How did you do that? How is it even possible that nothing freaks you out?"

He studied her for a brief second, sitting on the bed, then he answered "For your information, many things freak me out.. A Russian mobster looking for you? That's something that freaks me out. The stunt you pulled out in Maputo? That scared the crap out of me.." he shook his head trying to avoid the memory "you know.. for a moment out there I really thought you were dead.. I really thought that I killed you" He looked right into her eyes as he whispered the words.

Against her own will, Marta stroked his cheek tenderly. The pain in his expression, made her almost regret her anger towards him. But the moment passed and there were things she still needed to know.

"And this doesn't scare you at all? Because clearly we wanted a child.. " she snorted, a sad laugh on her lips "What was I thinking? It's not like we have a prize on our heads, I don't know why I am so worried.."

Marta adjusted herself on the bed, fully lying on her back and she stared at the ceiling to avoid his eyes. The last two months had been pure torture. She had spent her days trying to make sense of everything, ,fearing what he would have said, how he would have reacted, fearing she would have never seen him again. She had had no idea what she was going to do and she still hadn't figure it out. She took a deep breath, trying to find the courage to admit to him she had thought about solving the problem in other ways too. But Aaron stopped her from talking: he was getting tired of this game.

"No Doc, you wouldn't have done it.." he said and she wasn't surprised he had known exactly what she was thinking "And no, I didn't want a kid, I didn't want any of this.. I didn't even want you.. Have you ever thought about that? You didn't want me either, you do realize it.."

Marta frowned at him, not really understanding the point he was making. Aaron shook his head lightly at her.

"None of this is something we have ever asked for.. But I'll tell you something really funny, Doc.. I would fight wolves again, I would get shot again, I would do everything all over again. Because in the end, those things I never wanted in the first place, are the best things that could have ever happened to me.." he sighed deeply, staring at her. He took in the confused expression in her features and he understood she wasn't really following his logic. He started talking again, but this time his tone was different: it was challenging, it was almost cruel.

"You could leave, you know that right? You never wanted me in the first place, you had to stay.. But now you do have a choice, I'm giving you a choice..Marta Shearing is dead, no one would come looking for you, so.. you can go if you want to..you can go and get.." he paused, carefully choosing his words "you can go and solve all of your problems.." He smirked, seeing the horror sinking into her at his statement.

Marta stared at him, shocked and terrified just by his suggestion. Aaron nodded knowingly at her

"Yeah, that's what I thought.." he shook his head slightly, his fingers brushing on her chin " And that's how I knew you were just going to keep the baby.."

Marta tried her best to keep her sob unnoticed, but she didn't really succeeded. She stared at him, his blue eyes filled with sorrow and anger and she thought she just wanted to drown into them.

"So.. what are we going to do?" she said, her voice husky and desperate. Aaron sighed and nodded at her.

"Tomorrow, you'll go to see a doctor.." he saw her trying to protest, but he shut her up immediately, his tone serious "Don't make me drag you, you know I will if I have to.. Because I'm not doing all of this just to have you bleeding on a floor somewhere, on your own.." He watched as Marta nodded in defeat, then he kept talking "I'll stay a couple of days here. I have to make sure they found Smirnov's body.." He paused for a moment, then he added "And you're going back to Mombasa in a couple of weeks.."

"What?" she asked, her surprise clear in her tone.

"I could have let them find us in Kenya, but I didn't, because I wanted to keep the place safe for you to go back" He shrugged as he noticed her reaction: it was a mixture of astonishment, affection and gratitude "I know you love the place, Doc. I can't really offer to you a castle or a big house with the white porch, but this, this is something I can do. And I know you'll be fine there, you won't be alone.." he stopped, seeing as Marta was openly crying and shaking her head at him. He reached out to her face, wiping her tears away with his thumb.

"And in the meantime" she finished, her voice bitter "everyone will be so busy trying to kill you that they won't even remember my name.."

Aaron nodded sadly at her. She sat on the bed, framing his face with her hands. He tried to speak again, but she closed his mouth with her fingers.

" You do know.." she said, her voice nothing more than an unsteady whisper "than in five, six years from now, a kid with your wonderful blue eyes is going to ask me where his dad is?" She swallowed hard "Have you thought about that too?"

As she said the words, everything became finally real. In the past weeks Marta had been so busy with her worries she had never really lingered in the idea of what was coming next. She was having a child, his child. Marta couldn't stop the tremor as realization sank into her brain: Aaron didn't freak out, because he always had a plan and the plan was just to do everything in his power to let her be safe, to let them be safe. And no, he probably hadn't thought about the future, because he knew the chances he had to see his own kid were slim to none. He just didn't care: he loved her, he loved them and in his mind it didn't matter how or where he would be, as long as he knew they were all right. Marta couldn't help the proud thought in her head: he wasn't an assassin, he wasn't a spy. Aaron Cross was one hell of a man.

Aaron closed the distance between them, his forehead touching hers. For the first time in years, he was actually losing control over himself and he could sense the tears in his eyes. He felt the words she wasn't saying to him, he felt the heavy pain in his chest.

"I know that kid is going to be just fine with you. That's the only thing that I think about. And he'll be the luckiest child on earth to have you as his mother.. As I've been the luckiest man on earth to have you as my wife"

Marta kissed him deeply, slowly, his emotions hitting her like a slap in the face. Aaron laid them both back to the bed, resting his head against her breast, her hands holding him in a protective grip. They stayed in silence for a few moment, until he heard her voice, the plea unmistakable in her words.

"You'll come back.."

"Doc.." he whispered, trying to stop her, but Marta put a finger on his lips and looked down at him, her gaze begging him.

"Let's say you come back..Let's..let's dream.. just a little.." She was crying "We can still dream, right?"

He sighed and he buried his head in her soft skin. Maybe she was right, maybe dreaming was still a luxury he could afford, after all. He decided to play along.

"I'll build an house for us.. You know, in the church street..You'll be closed to the ambulatory and we could have a swing on the porch.."

Marta felt as the entire room was crumbling on her, as his tears were finally streaming down, soaking her own skin. She tightened her hold on him, as his arms were gripping at her waist as she was his only salvation.

"You are going to teach him sports.. " She said, voicing her own hope " And he's going to be good at it, as you are.."

Aaron shook his head against her "It's going to be a girl.."

When he spoke the words, he regretted their little, hopeless game immediately. He desperately clung at Marta, looking for support and he remembered why he had never, ever wanted to dream: dreams hurt too much, dreams could break a man down in pieces.

Dreams were never supposed to come true.


	12. Chapter 12

I'm sorry it took a bit longer than usual for the update.. Apparently, my cat thought it was fun to jump on my computer, pressing the delete button in the process.. :(

Either way, here we are.. And thank you all for the wonderful reviews..:D Enjoy..:D

* * *

A week after Dimitri Smirnov's death, Aaron was still in Demre. He hadn't really planned to remain that long there, thinking that two, three days at best, would have been enough of a time to reorganize his mind and the details of his next trip. But his stay there had been full of surprises indeed, the first being the large amount of documents and folders he had found in the bag Dimitri had handed him in Istanbul: they had been way more than he had expected and he had to carefully read all of them, word by word. And that was the task he was obliging right then, at 3 am in the morning, sitting in the living room of the house.

Aaron sighed deeply, trying to wash away his tiredness and walked towards the kitchen to refill his mug of coffee. As he went back to his previous spot, he glanced at the beautiful woman lying on the couch right next to him: Marta had resolutely refused to go to bed alone and she had stayed there with him, not even bothered by his protests. The woman was beyond stubborn and that was the other reason he still hadn't left: Marta was everything but fine. Her nausea was a living nightmare, she was constantly exhausted and the doctor had given her strict orders to rest and avoid any kind of stress. Things she had already known, since she had a medical degree herself, nonetheless she had shrugged those warnings away like they were meaningless. And they really were, because it was kind of difficult to relax when your life is nothing but a giant lie and sleepless nights filled with fears and sorrow. As he walked closer to her figure and tugged her tighter in the blanket, Aaron sighed again: he was honest enough with himself to admit he didn't care about the documents, he had stayed for her and her only.

Aaron stared at Marta for a few moments, then he sat on the floor, his back leaning against the sofa, as he tried to focus his attention on the files scattered all over the coffee table. There were pictures of several people, mostly unknown to him. Besides Eric Byer, a man he had unfortunately met many times, there were other persons he had never seen before: analysts, psychologists, CIA employees and all of them had worked with the former colonel. He picked up the picture of a woman, whose name was apparently Dita Mandy and looked at it for a minute, until he felt Marta moving behind him. He turned towards her, his hand immediately cupping her cheek to reassure her, his thumb stroking it gently.

"Aaron.." she whispered, leaning in his touch, her eyes still closed.

"Shh.. Sleep, Doc..I'm right here" he answered. He watched as she moved closer to him, mumbling something he didn't understand and he kept caressing her face until she was asleep again. He shook his head lightly glancing one more time at the picture now in his lap, then he sighed in defeat: in the latest days had been almost impossible for him to focus. And Aaron kept wondering if he was completely losing his mind.

Aaron Cross's self-control was legendary. He was a man of endless patience, he was a man who feared nothing and he himself couldn't remember a time when he had actually been startled or unsettled by something, anything. He had learnt to be that way, he had to be that way in order to stay alive. In his life he had dealt with bullets, water-boarding, master assassins chasing him: still, Aaron couldn't really remember a single time he had even flinched. It was a second nature, it was the inhuman part in him, it was the blue side of his brain that was able to calculate and anticipated every move, every step, every word. Nothing could get under his skin. Nothing, except her.

When he had realized Marta was pregnant, even then, he hadn't been surprised. They had still been in Mombasa planning their departure and all it had taken for him to draw to that conclusion, had been looking at her. She had been brushing her hair in the early morning, wearing nothing but her panties and he hadn't missed how her usual beauty had been somehow different: her breasts had been more rounded, her skin had been softer, her eyes had been sparkling with a light he had never seen before. And while he had been watching her, the doubt already cradling in his mind, he had realized she had been late. And he had been sure of it, because the hidden clock in his head had never been able to forget dates, not to mention how personal space had always been inexistent between the two of them: after Manila, when they had been running throughout Malaysia, privacy had never really been an option and by the time they had settled in Kenya, they had already been so accustomed and so dependant from each other that it had been pointless to question their total lack of boundaries.

Aaron had known instantly he had been right, yet, he hadn't lost his usual calm. He hadn't panicked and the pregnancy itself hadn't unsettled him that much, the rational part of him thinking that probably it had been only out of luck it hadn't happened before: they hadn't been totally careless, still they had spent most of the year naked in each other arms, so it wasn't something completely out of the blue. What had really startled him, what had really bothered him, had been his first, instinctive reaction: he had smiled. He had smiled and for a brief, short second he had felt a thud of joy knocking at his chest. It hadn't lasted though: he had switched his gaze from Marta, his eyes had caught the maps and the glock on the bed and reality had sank into his brain. And he had been unsettled by his own feelings, because the moment Aaron had realized she was pregnant, the moment he had realized he was actually happy about it, something else had immediately become clear to him too: he wasn't just an agent anymore. He wasn't just Aaron Cross, the well trained spy: he was Aaron Wilson too, a man, an husband, someone who didn't care about weapons and international conspiracies, someone who just wanted the chance to think about the future.

Aaron laid his head against the couch, his gaze wandering through the room. He eyed Marta's purse on the shelve near the door and stared at it: he knew the ultrasound was hidden there. He shook his head and closed his eyes: he didn't want to see it, he couldn't do it. He couldn't, because he knew an entire army was probably less dangerous for him than his own feelings. He couldn't, because that first night he had spent in Demre, playing with unrealistic dreams and forbidden hopes had cost him a break down in Marta's arms, it had caused him a pain he was sure it was going to hurt for the rest of his life. Aaron Wilson was longing to see that picture, Aaron Wilson felt like he was nothing but a selfish bastard who was abandoning his wife when she needed him the most. But point was, Aaron Wilson could do nothing to keep her safe, to keep them safe: Agent Cross, Outcome n.5, was the one he really needed to be, even if he didn't want to. And that was exactly why, after that first night, he had never spoken about the pregnancy again, because if he had let his feelings take control over him, he would have never left. Indeed, he still had to leave. He had to leave, because maybe he had changed, but the world outside was nothing but the same old scary place it had always been. And there was no way he would have let it destroy the only precious, wonderful thing that had come out of his shitty life.

Aaron turned to Marta, he watched as she moved in her sleep. He took gently her hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss her palm. He kissed her wrist, her fingers, he kissed her wedding ring: she was an amazing woman, she was his amazing woman. She was the woman who understood him like no one else could and in the latest days, she had played along with his denial: she hadn't said anything, she hadn't asked, she had hidden the ultrasound, because she had realized immediately how everything was tearing him apart. And he still had no idea how she could do that, how she could love someone like him.

Aaron sighed deeply and rose from the floor: it was almost 4 am in the morning and he knew he wasn't going to read the files anymore. He looked at Marta's uncomfortable position on the couch and bent down to pick her up in his arms. She stirred a little, but she didn't wake, she just buried her face in his shoulder, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. And while he was carrying her upstairs, her sweet scent intoxicating him, Aaron vaguely recalled a day he had spent in Moscow years before. He remembered the blood and the pain, he remembered burning objects against his own flesh. As he carefully laid Marta down on the bed, he thought that right then he would have gladly endured everything all over again: it had hurt him way less than the thunder now in his heart.

* * *

Eric Byer looked at the report from Turkey for the hundredth time that day. He read once again every single page of it, his anger and frustration displayed clearly in his posture. He glanced at Zev Veldev who was sitting at the other side of the table and shook his head in disbelief: Cross was leaving a trail of dead bodies behind him, they had no idea where he was and they still had no clue about his next move. Only one thing Byer knew for sure: he was coming. Sooner than later, Cross would come knocking at their door, looking for revenge.

"Two bullets in the head.." Veldev said, looking at his computer "execution style.. And the delivery truck thing makes impossible to say where he was killed.."

Byer sighed "It doesn't matter, Cross is already somewhere else.." he glanced at the file on his desk again "Twelve bodies. Twelve bodies just in Turkey.."

Veldev interrupted him, frowning "Maybe hiring Smirnov wasn't such a good idea.."

Byer shook his head at the other man "Smirnov, Larx.. It doesn't matter who we send, they are going to end up dead.." he took a look outside the window, then he whispered "He's coming.."

Dita Mandy entered the room, interrupting the conversation. Her expression was unmistakable.

"What?" Veldev asked her.

The woman sighed deeply "Jason Bourne. He was seen in New Orleans yesterday.."

* * *

Marta frowned once again at the still untouched plate of rice in front of her. She sighed, not sure if what was annoying her more was its smell or how Aaron kept glancing at her from the other side of the table. She kept playing with the fork in her hand, until Aaron stood up from his sit and took everything away from her, putting both the plate and the fork in the sink. Marta rolled her eyes at his actions.

"Really?" she asked exasperated "I'm not a twelve years old girl.."

Aaron grinned at her, a malicious glint in his eyes "Oh, Doc, believe me.. I know you're not.."

Marta tried to stop the smile at the corner of her mouth, shaking her head "You're a pig.."

Aaron laughed and raised an eyebrow at her "And you didn't realize that before? Really?" he leant towards her, giving a quick kiss to her lips. Then he put on the table the pills the doctor had prescribed her and the ginger roots jar.

"Here, take this" he said in a more serious tone. He watched to make sure she did as told and only when she obliged he went back sitting on his chair. He immediately started analyzing again the documents right in front of him, trying to keep himself focused and avoiding her gaze.

Marta studied his face from her spot, she looked at his posture, at his hands, at his fingers flipping through the papers: she knew he was worried about her, as much as she knew how everything was just bothering him to no end. They hadn't talk about any of it off course, but Marta had stopped wondering how they managed to get each other so effortlessly a long time before. Their relationship was a strange alchemy no science would ever be able to explain, there was no biology study that could demonstrate the nature of the deep bond they shared. Maybe she wasn't trained in reading people as he was, still she could read him perfectly and Marta knew in the latest days he had been torturing himself with guilt and concern. Aaron had fallen apart in her arms his first night there and as if that hadn't been enough already, something she had never thought as even possible had actually happened: she had caught him off guard. He had been staring at her pursue, where he knew she had the ultrasound, so lost in his mind that he hadn't even heard her coming next to him. And that was enough of a sign, since Aaron was usually hyper-aware of everything moving around him.

Marta sighed deeply, tearing her gaze away from the handsome man right in front of her and she looked at her bag hung near the door. She knew how deep his desire of seeing that small picture was, even though he had stubbornly refused to do so and despite everything, she understood perfectly why. Unable to find any other solution, Marta had just tried her best to support him and played along: and it didn't matter how her own pain felt like a sharp blade in her chest, it didn't matter how scared, how terrified of losing him she was. If that was what he needed, then she wouldn't question it.

Marta heard Aaron's voice and she turned to face him. He was handing her a picture and one of the news paper among the several he had been studying for the past week. She took a deep breath and focused her attention on him.

"Have you ever seen this man?" he asked

Marta looked at the photos and frowned "Doctor Hirsch? Yeah I know him.."

"Did he work with you at the lab?" Aaron inquired, taken aback by her answer.

Marta shook her head "No. I just met him a couple of times. He was a friend of Doctor Hillcott.."

He nodded thoughtfully "Yeah, I remember him..". Hillcott had been the medical director of the program and Aaron had met him several times over the years.

"Are you sure you don't know anything about Treadstone?" Aaron asked her.

Marta rolled her eyes at him "I don't know how many other times I have to tell you: I know nothing about it. And I don't know any of these people.." she said, annoyance clear in her voice. In the past days, Aaron had inquired her multiple times, showing her files and papers Smirnov had given him. Apparently, Aaron had asked the Russian to gather information about his former employer, a man named Eric Byer and whoever had been working with him. The documents contained information such as addresses, family status, past working experiences and Marta had been smart enough not to ask what the purpose of it all was. But besides Smirnov's files, Aaron had been studying old journals too, the main topic of research being a CIA program called Treadstone and Jason Bourne, another agent.

"This man" he said pointing at Hirsch's picture "was the director of Treadstone.."

Marta glanced at the paper one more time and nodded in understanding "So Treadstone and Outcome are probably related.." she sighed, watching as Aaron started to gather everything from the table and put it back in his backpack. "What about Landy?"

"There's still an on-going investigation about Treadstone, BlackBriar and Bourne. And I highly doubt I can find the whole story watching the news..I have to talk to her.." he answered.

Marta looked at him, a terrified expression on her face "You could walk into a trap.."

Aaron glanced at her and she spotted the glint of humor in his eyes "Really?"

But she wasn't in the mood for a joke: he could have got himself killed. She felt the panic rushing in her blood. "Why didn't you ask Smirnov to get these information too?"

Aaron kept working with his bag and answered without looking at her "Doc.. You don't go to a Russian spy telling him that the US government have genetically modified super-soldier.." he sighed and raised his head towards her "Do you know why Smirnov wasn't going to kill you?"

Marta stayed silent for a moment, recalling what Dimitri had told her " He said he had a debt with you.."

Aaron laughed bitterly at her answer "No, not really.. He didn't give a crap about that, Doc, trust me…" He thought for a few seconds, then he kept talking " He put the dots together. A very skilled agent and a scientist running for their lives? Smirnov was a smart man, the moment Byer asked for his help, he knew something else was going on.. And he wanted you to tell him what it was.." he paused and looked at Marta " Doc, you are far more valuable than I am and this is why I staged your death.. If other agencies found out about the program, you would have been be in everyone's wish list.."

Marta interrupted him, astonished "What?"

Aaron stared at her, shaking his head lightly " All in all, I'm just an asset. Yes, I can do things normal people can't do, but I still can't survive a bullet in my head.. You, on the other hand, have the knowledge to create as many as me as you want.."

The words stung to her, like a slap in the face. She watched as Aaron checked his fake passports and few other things he had in the backpack, trying not to cry right in front of him. No, she couldn't create anyone else like him, there was no one else on earth like him and it would never be. He wasn't just blue and green pills: he was the maddening, frightening, sexy man who was giving up everything for her. He was irreplaceable and that had nothing to do with his enhancement.

Aaron stood and went near the door, checking his leather jacket. Marta watched as he did so, another thought occurring to her mind. She raised from the chair and she came closer to him.

"When?" She asked in a whisper, her eyes filled with tears.

"Tomorrow morning.." he answered. Aaron turned to look at her, the jacket still in his hands. The moment their eyes met, unspoken truths and unforgivable hopes passed between them. He hastily threw the jacket away and suddendly grabbed her face, his lips crashing onto hers and Marta found herself pinned against the wall, breathless and trembling.

And hours later, as Aaron's mouth was still traveling all over her shivering body, Marta thought for a moment that pleasure was nothing but cruel. And love was nothing but painful.

* * *

Marta woke up the next morning in the silence of the house, her naked skin tangled in sheets and blankets. The moment she opened her eyes she knew instantly Aaron had left. She sat on the bed, trying to keep her breath steady and she looked aimlessly around the room.

Despite herself, despite everything, a small, sad smile cradled on her lips: the ultrasound was on the pillow next to hers. She took it in her hands and she noticed Aaron's handwriting on the back of the picture.

_"You know right? You know that I love you.." _


	13. Chapter 13

Thanks for all the amazing reviews.. I'm really glad people are interested in this story..

As usual, I do not own any of this..:D

* * *

How Aaron Cross had managed to get back in the States was still a huge mystery for Eric Byer. Each member of his staff had a different theory, but he didn't care about any of them, it didn't really matter to him. Outcome 5 had finally come back and he was getting closer as the days went by, leaving behind him only death and destruction. In the past month, since Cross's first appearance in Tampa, Florida, they had managed to track him down three different times, but none of them had ended well. The former agent had been shot twice and they suspected he had at least a few other injuries, nonetheless he was still on the loose, free and pretty much alive. He was fast, organized, he was an unstoppable killing machine: by all means, Cross's skills were far beyond any expectations they had ever had from the entire program. It was kind of difficult to admit though, it was hard to define it as a success, since n.5 had now turned against his own creators.

Byer glanced one more time at the big screen in his office, watching the footages of a shootout in North Carolina. Four days before, two agents had been sent to Raleigh, Cross last known locations: needless to say, they weren't coming back and Cross had just vanished again. Since then, they hadn't been able to determine where he was and Byer was getting increasingly anxious. He definitely suspected that the agent's accuracy wasn't really a product of his enhancement: he had a motive against them. They still weren't quite sure about the nature of his relationship with Doctor Shearing, but everything seemed to point to the fact they had underestimated it: the woman clearly had meant a lot to him and now she was dead. And Byer knew that a highly skilled super-soldier and the loss of a loved one, were a very, very dangerous combination.

Eric Byer listened as his entire staff was still arguing about locations and mission reports. Dita was suggesting something about reading again Cross's personal history to find useful clues about his next move and he opened his mouth to reply. He didn't have the time though, as the phone on the desk rang and he picked it up.

"Eric Byer" he said

"I can't skip my check-in any longer, can I?" a deep, guttural male voice spoke on the other end. Byer froze in his spot as he recognized immediately who he was.

"Cross.." he spoke, as he gestured to the people in the room and put him on speaker. Everyone stopped in his tracks and Veldev gave rapidly instructions to a tech to trace the call.

"The one and only.." the voice answered " Oh and I'll save you some time.. The call is going to lead you to a warehouse in Miami.."

"But you're not in Miami, are you?" Byer replied.

A light chuckle was heard in the room " Off course I'm not.. You know I'm better than that.."

Byer sighed and glanced at the people around him "What do you want?"

But the voice ignored the question " Is Ms Mandy there? Tell her I like her new house.. It's really nice, very classy. But she should repaint the kitchen.."

Everyone in the room exchanged shocked looks and Dita Mandy sat on the nearest chair, her face pale with fear. Byer though remained calm and composed.

"What do you want?" he repeated the question.

The man speaking on the phone avoided to answer again "And Mr Velded.. I'm really sorry but your girlfriend has the infamous habit of sleeping with that guy, Paul. I think he's her co-worker, isn't he?"

Veldev closed his eyes and shook his head, half astonished and half humiliated. Byer instead kept glancing at the phone, his voice still steady as he tried to interrupted the agent. But before he could say anything, Cross spoke again.

"And Sir.." as the voice said the word the mocking tone in it was unmistakable "Your son.. He's quite a beautiful kid. He looks a lot like you.."

At this, Byer lost his temper and he felt a chill running down his spine. The entire room was frozen in silence as he finally yelled "What the hell do you want?"

"What I want it's something I can't have. What I wanted never mattered.." Cross's voice was now a bitter whisper.

"I swear to God.. If you even come close to.." Byer started, but the agent interrupted him.

"What? You send an hit squad after me?" an icy laugh filled the office "Another one? You know they are just going to end up dead.. " he paused for a second then his tone became deadly serious "And just to be clear.. I don't kill children.. Unless, off course, you order me to.."

As there was no reply, Aaron kept talking " What was it? Ah, yes, the moral excrements of the equation.. Do you even care? Do you ever think about all the things you asked us to do?"

"You volunteered for the program, Cross… You.."

Another laugh interrupted Byer's answer "That can hardly be called as an informed decision.. But that's not the point, really.. You still don't get it.. I know what my sins are and when my day will come, I'm going to pay for them…" he paused for a second then he added "In the meantime though.. I'd be glad to share the guilt.."

As the line went dead, Eric Byer threw the phone against the wall and stormed out of the room.

* * *

Aaron Cross had never been too fond of New York. As he hung up the phone and walked his way inside a coffee shop in Bronx, he remembered why he had never liked the place. Too many surveillance cameras, cops everywhere, overcrowded streets: overall the city was an explosive mixture of all the things his trained instinct had always warned him from. Being in the city, even in the rare occurrences he had been off duty, had always made him feel way too exposed and vulnerable and now the concept had reached a total new level of danger. If it had seemed like a gamble before, now it felt more like playing Russian Roulette. And the stake was his own life.

Aaron thanked the waitress and exited the building, a warm cup in his hand. He scanned the street and the people passing him by for a second, while tossing the burn phone in the near trash can, then started walking toward the hotel he had been staying for the past two days . He tried to stop the memory of the last time he had been in NY, because he already knew it wasn't going to do him any good thinking about it: the last time he had been there, he had gone straight to JFK airport to catch a flight for Manila and he hadn't been alone. The memory was nothing more than a blur and Aaron couldn't help wondering if it even belonged to him. He wasn't that man anymore, he wasn't any longer the junkie who had dragged his doctor to the other side of the planet to help him get his fix. Too many things had changed since then, he had changed, possibly even more than he himself was willing to admit.

Aaron turned at the corner, his mind immediately calculating escaping routes, while the sharp pain in his right arm made him winching slightly. He checked his sleeve to make sure there wasn't any blood stain and as it was perfectly clean, he kept walking his way. Three nights before, he had dug out the bullet from his own flesh himself, a task he wasn't really new at: still, he hadn't really been able to refrain the thought that for the past year and half, someone else had been taking care of his injuries, someone else had been taking care of him. And Aaron still couldn't believe how much he was longing for her, he couldn't understand how even the smallest of the things, were constantly reminding him of her. Aaron Cross had never suffer from solitude in his whole life, because it was impossible for him to miss something he had never really got: for the past month though, since his departure from Turkey, he had actually come to a fairly good knowledge of what the word lonely really meant. Because now he knew how it felt to have someone by his side, no matter what, he knew how warm it felt an embrace always ready to let him buried his soul in its depth. He knew how it felt to be loved.

Aaron enter the hallway of the little hotel and glanced at the man behind the desk. He took the key of his room from his pocket and went up the stairs, his eyes studying the surroundings and the dark corridor ahead of him. The place was nothing but a cheap, dirty hole frequented by prostitutes and drug addicted, but it worked for his purposes, since no one would have looked twice at him and when he had arrived they had asked him nothing besides money. He heard muffled moans from the room next to his and a shouting match coming from another floor, as he opened the door and let himself inside. He looked at his watch, his mind traveling on the other side of the planet: by now, Marta was supposed to be safely back in Mombasa and Aaron relaxed a little at the thought, considering that probably in six, seven minutes he would receive the call from Rudolph, who had been in charge to pick her up from Nairobi.

Aaron sat on the bed and sipped at his coffee, reaching for another phone he had in his pocket. Tasting the liquid he suddenly realized it wasn't black and sugar free as he used to drink it and he mentally went back to the moment he had given his order to the waitress. He sighed to himself, finally understanding what he had actually asked to the girl: a decaf with cream, just how Marta liked it. He mentally cursed at himself for his unfocused action and he passed and hand over his face. He laid back on the mattress, he glanced again at his watch, then at the cell he was now holding in his hand: he was less than thrilled at the idea of Marta traveling alone. Against all of her protests, he had resolutely refused to arrange another long boat trip, because even if she had fiercely claimed otherwise, he knew she had been way too tired and weak to endure that. Back in Turkey, he had even pondered the option of making her stay in Demre, because another relocation could have hardly been helpful for her health. He had quickly dismissed the idea, though: he would have gone insane at the thought of her completely on her own, at the thought of her with literally no one at her side. It wasn't an ideal circumstance, yet he knew in Mombasa there were plenty of friendly, trustworthy people who could keep an eye on her. Rudolph and Rachid were going to make sure she was safe and protected, Nadira would help her with any physical issue she might have suffered and maybe, just maybe the children at the mission could have even made her smile. Thus, he had booked a flight and made her a brand new passport, ignoring her argues and his own worry at the idea of Marta in an airport all by herself. Aaron stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the guilt pounding soundly in his chest: he should have been with her, he should have been the one making sure she was okay, making sure she ate, slept and took her meds. Indeed he was miles and miles away, fighting monsters and nightmares and even if the rational part in him knew it wasn't really his fault, he couldn't help blaming himself. He had never, ever wanted something as much as he wanted to be there with her.

The phone suddenly buzzed and Aaron picked it up instantly.

"Everything's good?" he asked before Rudolph could say anything.

But as he heard a deep, sad sigh of relief from the other side he knew immediately it wasn't the priest the one he was speaking with. Aaron closed his eyes, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Doc.." he whispered as he pictured her in his mind, gorgeous and beautiful, standing in a street in the middle of Africa.

"Everything's fine.." she answered, her gentle voice nothing more than a tremulous sound "You?"

"Still in one piece.." he murmured softly, his eyes still closed. As a reminder of reality though, he felt again the pain in his arm. Aaron sighed: she didn't need to know about that. And they couldn't stay on the phone any longer. "Doc.."

She interrupted him " Yeah, I'll throw it away.. I know.."

He smiled a little: it wasn't what he had wanted to say. "Doc.." He repeated.

But she was speaking again, her tone implying she understood what he had really meant and he heard her muffling her tears as she whispered "Yeah, I know that.. I love you too.."

* * *

Pamela Landy entered the abandoned building and walked towards the empty room on her left, following the instructions she had received few hours before from an unknown source. She froze in her steps as she felt a gun pressed against her back: she hadn't even realized someone had been there. She thought for a moment that probably she shouldn't have been surprised: if this guy was really who he had claimed to be, then he was certainly more than capable to appear out of nowhere like a ghost.

"Keep walking" he ordered and as she raised her hand in surrender, she noticed he was scanning the street from the broken window and studying her car. "You alone?" he asked.

"Yes.." she answered, still proceeding through the room "But you know that already, don't you?"

"Weapons?" the man inquired, ignoring her latest comment.

"Gun in the waistband of my pants" She said and she noticed how it barely took a movement for him to take it.

"What about this?" he asked, sliding the bag from her shoulder and checking its content. Since he didn't find anything besides documents and folders, the man gave it back to her and pull his gun away from her back. Pamela Landy turned slowly to face him and once the weapon was out of sight she slowly put her arms down.

She studied the man, even though the darkness made it quite difficult. She wasn't surprised of the fact he was analyzing her too.

"Who are you?" she demanded to him.

"It doesn't matter.." he said, shaking his head. "Do you know what the Outcome Program is?"

The woman frowned at him "Besides the little piece of literature you send me? No, not really..And it does matter who you are..How do I know you are really the one who send that damn box to me?"

The man chuckled a little "Ms Landy, you've been with the CIA for years. You know how it works. If I was someone sent to kill you, I wouldn't be here chatting with you.." he paused, but as the woman was still studying him he kept talking "I am..I was an outcome agent..I was part of the program.."

She nodded lightly at him "And how is this related to Treadstone exactly?"

"What does make you think they are related?" he asked, an enigmatic expression in his eyes. He was trying to determine if she knew something she wasn't saying.

She rolled her eyes at his suspicions. "Because you send the files to me. That's hardly a coincidence"

An half smile danced at the corner of his lips, but there was no warmth in it "See? I knew you were smart.." he sighed, than he added " I have no idea what Treadstone really is. But it's _hardly a coincidence_" he said repeating her own words " that the moment Bourne popped out on the news as public enemy n.1, they suddenly decided to shut down Outcome.."

He looked at her, then he handed her a file. "Doctor Hillcoltt. He was the medical director of Outcome.. And apparently a close friend of Doctor Hirsch.."

Landy glanced at the man in surprise, but he didn't give her time to say anything "He's dead. When they decided to burn down the program they sat up a shoot out in his lab. All the doctors and the scientists involved were killed.. Only one survived.."

"The one who wrote the medical report you sent to me?" She asked, her eyes still reading the document in her hands.

The man nodded "Yeah.. I think I don't need to tell you that they killed all the agents too.. Somehow we survived and we managed to stay off their radar.."

"Where is he now?" Landy said, looking back at him. He shook his head at her.

"She.." he corrected "she died three months ago in Mozambique" He glanced outside the window for a brief moment and the woman carefully studied his expression. In the darkness of the building she spotted something sparkling on his left hand. She sighed, recognizing the object.

The unnamed man handed her other files. She opened them and she identified as familiar some of the people in them. "Byer is the head of the NRAG" she said

"And I answered directly to him.." he replied calmly.

Landy remained astonished for a moment, then she collected herself and spoke again.

"The doctor.. Did she leave other records to you?"

The former agent looked intently at her. He was trying to read her and the intention behind the latest question. After a few moment, he raised an eyebrow at her.

"What's going on?" but before she could answer he added angrily "And don't give me the bullshit about the hearing and investigation. That's just a load of crap you built for the press.."

"What's your name?" she hissed in response.

"What's going on?" he asked again. He was on alert, wary and his eyes were icily cold.

The woman stared at him, sustaining his gaze. Eventually she gave in.

"We are trying to determine the whole length of Treadstone. We have been thinking for awhile it wasn't the only program activated.."

"We?" the man inquired coldly. She sighed in defeat.

"Me and my team. You're right, the official investigation is a dead end.. We figured a while back that going public wasn't going to do us any good.." she trailed off and the former agent nodded slightly at her. It had been all over the news how after the first senate hearing Pamela Landy had been under the radar herself, accused of treachery and connivance with a terrorist.

"We do not exist. Officially I am still suspended indefinitely from my job.."

"But you're telling me.." he said.

"You're giving me information, documents, you were a part of this. Right now you are the most valuable source we have.." she glanced at the man then she kept talking "You can help us.."

But the man interrupted her, suspicion still clear in his voice "Who do you respond to? Who did authorize this?"

"I can't tell you that and you know it..And before you asked: yes, I trust him.."

The agent remained silent and kept staring at her cautiously. "Why do you asked about the medical files?"

"We are still trying to figure what Treadstone medical treatment was. As far as we know it didn't involve genetic modifications. The file you mailed me about Outcome was useful, but we are still trying to figure if there was a pattern, if the programs had something in common.." she paused, throwing him an apologetic look "and we'd really like to know what the hell they did to the recruits during training.."

He sighed, annoyance displayed on his face "These were black-ops programs. What do you think they trained us for?"

"I'm not talking about that..You know what I meant.." she answered. She glanced at her watch, then she asked "If, and it's a huge if, will ever come to that.. would you testify against them?"

The man looked at her incredulously before erupting in a loud, amused laugh "Because clearly I got nothing to be condemned for.. Are you serious?"

"We are not investigating your missions, or any missions related to the programs for the matter.. And I think you understand why.."

He chuckled bitterly, shaking his head "We don't want to open the Pandora's box, do we?"

Pamela Landy looked out of the window, sighing deeply "I have to go now..How do I contact you?"

"I'll contact you.. If I'm still alive.." he trailed off and it was obvious his brain was working all the new information as fast as it could "I might have other medical files.." he raised his hand to stop her from replaying "They are not here and it might take awhile for me to reach them.. Let me know what you need and I'll see what I can do.." After a brief moment he added "My name is Aaron Cross.."

She nodded at him, smiling slightly. Before leaving she added "I want you to meet someone.."

"An hit squad? A master assassin?" he gave her a challenging glare.

She nodded "Well, actually, yes.." She glanced at him "I want you to meet Jason Bourne"


	14. Chapter 14

Well, you know it already: sadly, I do not own any of this..

Enjoy..:D

* * *

At the end of a very long week spent fighting and running, Aaron opened the door of his room in Seattle. He was tired, he was basically a mess of bruises and overall he was very grateful his upgraded body was able to handle pain so well: a mere mortal would have not been able to stand in the conditions he was right now.

He had been mocking and teasing Eric Byer mercilessly for the past two months and that seemed to be working quite well for everyone: the former colonel was so busy worrying about his threats that was highly unlikely he would notice anything else. After Aaron had managed to leave undisturbed a not so subtle message in his car, Byer had sent his entire family under protective custody and all the people in his staff had several agents escorting them 24/7. The NRAG headquarters now looked a lot like a military compound, with armed guards everywhere and despite the multiple attempts, they still hadn't succeeded in killing him. No one had even the slightest of the clues about Pamela Landy secret investigation, because Outcome 5 had been enough of a distraction. And that had been his only job: besides sporadically meeting with Landy and Fred O'Malley, an FBI agent who had been working with her, the duty he had to accomplish was to keep Eric Byer busy. So far had been quite a success.

Aaron turned the key and reached for the doorknob but before he could even step foot inside, his instinct caught the presence lingering at the window and waiting for him. He immediately held out his gun and went in, but in a split second he identified his guest and exhaled in relief. Aaron put the weapon away, tossing it to the table, while the other man was still in his spot as nothing had happened.

"Keep showing up like that and one of these days I'm going to shoot you for real.." Aaron said. He took another step forward but the movement made him flinch as the wound in his right side was still fresh, aching and apparently still bleeding too. A small groan escaped him and he tugged his black shirt up to assess the damage: he definitely needed to change the bandages. He divested himself from the cloth, then he turned towards the bathroom and he didn't miss the studying glance the other man was giving him. He raised an eyebrow, annoyed.

"What?" Aaron asked.

"You don't have even a scar.." Bourne said, frowning deeply.

Aaron shrugged, his hands working around the bloody gauze "I can't.. Tissues regenerates as nothing happened, it's an effect of the enhancement"

Bourne nodded thoughtfully at the explanation, but kept staring at the other and this time Aaron looked back at him. They studied each other for awhile, until something in the atmosphere switched: Aaron let the bandages fall on the floor, freeing his hands and getting mentally ready for whatever the ex-CIA agent had in store for him. This wasn't going to be just a harmless exchange of information.

Aaron Cross and Jason Bourne didn't like each other. That much had been pretty clear since the first time they had met, two months before, when Pamela Landy had somehow arranged a meeting. Back then, they had barely uttered a word but things had quickly changed though, since they both had surrendered to the idea that they needed each other. They had started meeting at the strangest hours and places and usually one of them would just show up from nowhere, no arrangements needed. Their conversations had always the same subject and it hadn't taken Aaron long to realize he was always going to be the one speaking the most, because Bourne's amnesia wasn't just a joke. The guy remembered little to none and the bits and pieces his mind still recalled, weren't always useful. Furthermore, Jason was constantly asking him all sort of questions about their recruitment, about their missions, about their training because he thought Aaron had gone through a similar experience. Which was only partially true, because Treadstone and Outcome had not been the same thing: the two programs had a lot in common, but also many differences. Aaron had tried his best to answer the other man, hoping to wake useful memories in Bourne's mind, but there was an awful amount of things he himself hadn't a clue about. And there was a topic Aaron had absolutely refused to discuss: their training. Jason had only vague memories about the tank and sleep deprivation, which had been not even half of what they had really gone through, but Cross had denied any more explanations, because he wished he could have forgotten everything himself. Apart from that, though, they had just been trying their best to put together all they knew and to connect the dots between the two projects.

However, sharing their knowledge hadn't diminished at all the mutual dislike they felt: they were way too similar and that hadn't escaped neither of the men. They were constantly on alert, always guarded, always assessing threats and planning ahead: as persons, they probably could have not been anymore different, but they had stopped being human a long time before. They were assets, they were agents, they were government projects: they had never been meant to become friends, let alone to trust each other. They never talked more than strictly necessary, always very wary of what they were telling the other and how they were doing it. Truth was, Aaron and Jason were very well aware of the fact that their brains worked pretty much the same way and that unnerved both of them. Especially Aaron, because he knew it was only a matter of time before Bourne would realize he was hiding something. Jason's motives for his involvement in Landy's investigation, were pretty clear: he wanted to know what the hell happened to him, he wanted to know how he had ended up like this. Aaron's reasons were a complete different story indeed and Bourne had already questioned him about it several times. They weren't there for justice and they had absolutely no problem in admitting so: justice had failed them a long time before.

And now, as the glancing fight kept going on, Aaron couldn't help thinking of Bourne as the biggest of the threats. He quickly made a move to reach for the glock hidden behind the cabinet in the bathroom, but he realized instantly the other man must have taken it before his arrival. As proof of his suspicion, Jason had the weapon in his hand, though without pointing it at him: he slowly raised his other hand which was holding the magazine, to show the gun was unloaded. Bourne threw both items at his feet: he meant no harm. Yet, he had thought as wise to disarm the other man and Aaron knew why: he was not going to like what he was just about to hear.

"You know I don't need that to kill you.." he said, his shoulder tensing, his entire body ready to attack.

Bourne ignored him and Aaron noticed how he was staring at his wedding ring "Why? I really don't get it.."

"Why what?" Aaron replied, trying to fake ignorance.

"Why are you hiding her?" he answered, looking at the other man. Aaron didn't say anything, his eyes carefully studying his opponent. Bourne kept talking "Even better.. Why are you here? Why you are not with her, why didn't you just keep on running together?"

Aaron chuckled bitterly " Keep running.. yeah, right..'Cause that worked real well for your girlfriend..". It was a low blow and Aaron knew it, but even the painful expression that briefly passed on Bourne's face didn't make him feel guilty about it. He was sorry for Jason loss, because he had some ideas of how that might have felt: still, his only purpose was to keep Marta safe. And Bourne knowing she was still alive, was a huge risk for her.

Aaron sighed, but his voice didn't soften "You know better than anyone else.. No matter how hard you tried, eventually they are going to find you.."

Bourne nodded at him, a sad glint in his eyes. "I want to talk to her.."

"No" Aaron shouted resolutely, his brain already trying to figure the fastest way to kill the guy few feet away from him. But before he could move, Jason took out a phone from his pocket.

"See.." he said, showing the display " the text says _Doctor Shearing still alive._ Now, I watched you, I know you're fast, you're faster than me, you're probably even stronger than me. But you won't be fast enough to prevent me from pushing the send button.." his thumb brushed lightly on the button and Aaron froze in his spot. Jason kept talking "Nicky Parson is in Landy's team. She used to be a part of Treadstone. And now she has the key of a safe deposit box, where's another phone with the same text. If I don't check-in every hour, she's going to send it.."

Aaron tried as hard as he could to keep in check his temper. Bourne clearly had a death wish, but apparently he had also a very good plan. And he had to admit he would have probably done the exact same thing.

"Does she know?" Aaron asked, his voice made of ice.

Bourne shook his head "No.. But I guess she will if I die.." he studied the former outcome agent for a moment, then he sighed deeply, tearing his gaze away from him "Look.. I do not want to hurt her.. And I'm not going to tell anyone.."

"What the hell do you want then?" Aaron interrupted abruptly.

"Answers.."Jason replied calmly.

The other man shook his head, stubbornly "She knows nothing about Treadstone. She has no answers for you.."

"But she can figure it out.." Bourne said, his voice firm and steady. He studied Aaron for a few seconds, he glanced once again at the gold band on his left hand. "Look.. I know why you are doing this..And I respect it, I really do.. But you are no idiot and you know as well as I do Doctor Shearing would be a great help for us.."

Jason was trailed off by Aaron's bitter laugh. The ex outcome agent shook his head, chuckling sadly, then he slowly sat on the stool right behind him and leant his back against the doorframe.

"You don't know anything, believe me.." he whispered and then he glanced at the man. "I don't give a crap about the investigation, I couldn't care less.."

Bourne frowned at him, than a small smile appeared at the corner of his mouth "You are doing this for her.." It wasn't a question, but Aaron nodded at him anyway.

"Hell yes.." Aaron had no problem admitting it. "And I would be totally useless if she was here, because I'd do nothing but worry about her.." He threw Jason an apologetic look, then he asked in a whisper "How did it feel when Marie died?"

As the man's gaze fell on the floor, Aaron kept talking "Yeah, that's what I thought.." he sighed deeply, staring aimlessly at the wall in front of him "And no, you don't understand why I'm doing this, you can't understand..Men, you don't know anything.. You don't remember anything.." he closed his eyes, trying to stay composed "But I do.. I do remember.. I remember the people I killed, the screams, I remember what they did to us.."

He turned his head to look at the other man "I gave them everything, everything I had..You can bet your sorry ass I'm not going to give them anything anymore.. and definitely not the only thing I've ever cared about.."

Bourne seemed lost in his own world, but he absently nodded. "Look at us.. Look what they made you give.." He murmured almost to himself. But the moment passed though and he glanced back at Aaron, his eyes cold and resolute once again. They had no time for feelings.

"Tell me where she is.." Jason said.

Aaron chuckled and shook lightly his head "If you think I'm going to let you anywhere near my wife without me, you're clearly mistaken.." He thought for a couple of seconds, then took the bandages back from the floor. He started working at his wound again and he spoke without looking at Bourne "Zanzibar, two days.. Be there.."

Jason didn't say anything in response and stood to leave. He looked at Aaron one more time, he watched as he winced and straightened the gauze around himself.

"At the rate you're going, I'm surprised you're still alive.."

Aaron shrugged as he didn't care "Yeah, me too.."

* * *

Marta waved her goodbye towards Nadira and entered her house in Mombasa. It had been a long day, several kids at the mission had got sick, while Rose, the nurse who had joined them a month before, had broken her arm falling from the stairs and last but not least Rachid had brought in a dozen boxes full of meds they had to store into the ambulatory. Marta felt way too tired even for a shower, her legs and her back sore for all the time she had spent standing. She sighed defeated as she close the door behind her: it was definitely time for her to slow things down. She was six month pregnant and her belly was visibly growing day by day. Thankfully the nausea was no longer a problem, but she felt often sleepy and exhausted, not to mention the stress and the constant worry were taking a tool on her too. And the silence that was always engulfing her in the house, wasn't helping either.

Marta sat on the chair near the table, her eyes wandering around the room in the vain search of something, someone. She loved that place, she really did, but without him it wasn't really the same because the only reason she was attached to the house at all, was that they had been happy there. Marta had no hesitation admitting the time they had spent together in that place, had been undoubtedly the best in her whole life. She had no science, no lab, no huge living room, they had literally nothing but a prize on their heads: still she had never felt that free and satisfied, both as woman and as a human being. She had learnt to enjoy the simplest of the things, she had discovered sides of herself she hadn't known before and overall, she had learnt what love really meant. Marta smiled to herself, remembering the words she had uttered to Aaron months and months before_: I was kind of hoping we were lost._ And love definitely meant to be lost, it meant not caring about anything but the person at your side. Peter had never even come before her job: Aaron had made her completely forget about it and about who she had been before. She would have never gone back to her previous life because reality was, she hated her former self. Doctor Shearing hadn't died in an house in Maryland, she hadn't died in an explosion in Maputo either: Marta Shearing had perished an year and half before on a Filipino boat.

Marta glanced around the room once again, caressing her rounded stomach as memories floated in her mind. The cramped, ratty house symbolized all the things they had never got before and she knew that for Aaron the place had meant mostly the freedom of being just himself. He liked Mombasa, their neighborhood and the people around them, but his agent instinct was something impossible to shut down: even if he had always been nice and polite, he had never really let his guard down. Everyone thought of him as very private and composed person, sometimes even distant: but truthfully he was nothing like that. Aaron was a caged animal, entrapped by years of training, by years spent constantly keeping himself and his emotions in check as they didn't exist at all and Marta knew that was something that was never going to change. But every time he had closed the house door behind, Marta the only one in front of him, Aaron had always let it go and allowed himself to be the man he really was: passionate, stubborn as a mule, shameless and carefree. He loved to challenge her, to tease her and he clearly had no idea on what the word shy meant. Sometimes it had unnerved her to no end, but the irritation had always quickly dissolved at the sight of the breakfast ready every morning, at the fact he had never bought the wrong shampoo or at the thought that he had managed to find her favorite book.

It had taken awhile for Marta to realize that as much as he loved to take care of her, Aaron had some serious troubles understanding why she wanted to do the same for him. When she had come to the conclusion that he had never had someone who had cared for him before, her heart had almost broken in two. Her parents had died in a car crash when she was in med school, but Marta would never forget how much they had loved her and her sister: Aaron didn't even know who his parents were and she knew the state-home wasn't something he gladly remembered. She had got friends, boyfriends and even a fiancé, while he had dealt with scientists who had treated him like a lab rat and superiors who had never thought twice about him and his well-being. Overall it shouldn't have been that surprising that he was unsettled by her feelings for him and Marta was aware that he considered her as a precious treasure he didn't deserve at all. Even though he would never admit it, she knew Aaron thought of himself as nothing more than a successful experiment and that bothered her immensely, because the thing she loved the most about him wasn't his body, as beautiful as it was, neither his intelligence, as brightly and fast his brain worked. She loved him for something no pills and no virus could have ever given to him, something that had always been inside of him: his fierce, strong, independent spirit.

Marta winced slightly, coming back to reality as the baby gave her a kick. She smiled, her hands stroking her belly and not for the first time a sensation of completeness washed over her. There weren't enough words to describe how much she had been missing him and her fears had been heart shattering. Still, somehow, another thought, a primordial feeling had been persistently lingering in the back of her mind: a part of him was safely inside of her. He loved her and her growing abdomen was a sign of it for the world to see. He loved her and he had let himself melt in the deepest part of her body to create something wonderful, something that belonged to them and them only. Something that was made of them mingled together.

Marta shivered at the thought, but as overwhelming as it was, it was an amazing sensation. Her smile grew wider as she felt another kick and she stood from the chair. She made a couple of steps forward to reach the bed, then she heard the knock at the door. She frowned as she recognized Rudolph at the other side.

"Marta.. Open up.."

She did as told and gave the man a questioning look "What's wrong?" She asked.

The priest shook lightly his head "I just received a call.."

"Is he alright?" Marta interrupted him with a whisper. She leant her weight against the doorframe, her face pale. She expected the worst.

"Hey, hey.." Rudolph said, gently taking her arm and guiding her back inside "He's fine..I didn't mean to scare you..He's fine, really.." he repeated, making her sit on the chair. The man turned and filled a glass with water. Marta drank it, then glanced back at him expectantly

Rudolph smiled at her "He's alright.. But I guess you're going to see it for yourself in a couple of days.." he winked at the woman "Have you ever been in Zanzibar?"


	15. Chapter 15

Well, here we are.. This chapter is a little bit longer than usual, but I couldn't bring myself to cut anything. Well, I just hope it doesn't get boring to read..

On another note, I'd like to sincerely thank everyone who took the time to leave a review..:D

* * *

Jason Bourne arrived at his destination in the early morning as he had been instructed. He took a moment to inspect his surroundings, the small, yellow house he had been looking for standing on the beach right in front of him, hidden by several palm trees. The place wasn't far from Jambiani, a tiny fishing village on the southeast coast of Zanzibar and Jason had to admit it had been chosen wisely: the building was enough isolated, but it wasn't that far from the more populated tourist areas. It would allow them to have both privacy and a clear line of sight, still it wouldn't have been difficult to get lost in the crowd if needed. Bourne nodded to himself: Cross was smart, but that wasn't really a surprise to him. And the sudden feeling of a gun against his back, wasn't surprising either.

"Listen to me and listen carefully.." Cross said pressing the weapon harder to make his point "If you even look at her in a way I do not like, I'll make you painfully regret this little idea of yours.."

"I do not want to hurt her.." Bourne calmly interrupted him.

Aaron snorted quietly at his answer "Well if you say so, excuse me then.." The mocking tone wasn't missed by Jason, but Cross put away the weapon nonetheless and made a step to his side. The man inspected the area for a moment, as Bourne had done a few minutes before.

"Place's fine.. Everything is clear.." Jason said, looking at the house in front of them. "You're good, by the way.." he offered, chuckling bitterly.

Aaron was just about to retort at him, when they both spotted a dark haired woman coming out from the building and walking towards the shore. She strolled barefoot on the sand, wearing a short red dress and even though they could only see her back, Jason knew immediately she was Doctor Shearing: the longing glimpse in Aaron's eyes could have hardly been missed. Bourne studied her figure and when she turned, he blinked, clearly taken aback by her appearance. Her rounded stomach, now in plain sight for him to see, was a surprise indeed.

He blinked again, then turned his face to look at Aaron in disbelief. The other man was intently staring at him.

"I'm not good.." Cross finally said and his gaze went back to the woman "I'm just desperate.."

* * *

Marta didn't even flinch. She wasn't startled, she didn't wince, her heartbeat was as steady as ever: when she felt his hands softly brushing her arms, she just closed her eyes and leant back into his chest, as she had been expecting him all along. And she really had.

Marta rested her head on his shoulder, taking in the sensation of his arms holding her, his scent, his skin against hers. She sighed and it was a strange mixture of relief, desire and sorrow: he was still alive, his touch felt strong and sensual as usual, he was there. And in a couple of days, he would be gone again.

She felt his lips on her temple, lingering softly."You okay, Doc?" Aaron whispered against her hair.

His voice. His voice was all it took to break her and Marta found herself shivering, realizing she had almost forgotten how it sounded. And they were on an African Island, the sultry air and the burning sun enveloping them, still she couldn't stop the tremor: she knew that in a moment she would see into his eyes, that wonderful eyes of his and she would do nothing but succumb to them. She turned into his arms, she looked at him and she instantly regretted it, because her mind could elaborate only one thought: dragging him into bed, barricading the door and never, ever letting him go again. And reading the exact same consuming idea in his gaze, wasn't helpful at all.

But Marta wasn't stupid and she knew he was there for other reasons. Since Rudolph had told her about the little vacation in Zanzibar she had been wondering about what they might have been, because she had absolutely no doubt Aaron didn't just want to see her. He would have never put at risk her safety only to indulge in his own desire, no matter how badly they both wanted it. And if everything had already been over, he would have just come back to their home in Mombasa, but that clearly wasn't the case. Marta buried her face in his neck, Aaron's fingers tangled in her brown locks and she took a deep breath, trying to regain some sort of composure. The corner of her eyes caught the sight of another man, standing a few feet away from them and doing his best not to look in their direction. She extricated herself from Aaron's embrace and she was about to ask him who their guest was, but his piercing gaze roaming all over her body broke the words in her throat. She spotted the glimpse in his eyes, the same glimpse she had seen for the whole week he had spent in Turkey with her: a painful combination of concern, longing and guilt. She felt the heaviness in her chest, she remembered the ultrasound and his handwriting on the back of it: in Demre they had played the hurtful game of denial, but now her pregnancy was impossible to ignore and she knew already he would be torturing himself endlessly. She frowned a little, but then her eyes noticed again the guy near the house: it wasn't the right time to wonder. Later they would talk, later they would be alone and she would get lost into his arms. Later.

Aaron kept carefully studying her figure for another moment, when Marta suddenly realized she hadn't uttered a single word yet, neither she had answered his previous question. She took his hand in hers and smiled reassuringly at him.

"I'm fine.." she said, then her smile grew a little wider "Everything is fine.."

"Good.." he replied and he couldn't help but grin a little in return. After a second though, he sighed in frustration and nodded towards the mysterious man.

"Yeah.. who's that?" Marta asked before he could say anything. She looked at the guy for a few moments, frowning "Is he.."

"Yep.." Aaron interrupted her, then he squeezed her hand "We kind of need your help, Doc.."

Marta chuckled "Let me guess.. Medical data, explanation of genome targeting.."

"Something like that.." he said, shrugging. Then he added, his voice firm "Listen.."

"Yeah, I know.." Marta trailed him off, rolling her eyes in annoyance "No mention of the people I see every day, no talking about where I live, what I do.."

Aaron laughed amused and Marta threw him a nasty look "I've been sleeping with a paranoid for the past year and half.. I think I learnt at least a few things about security.."

He raised playfully an eyebrow at her "Are you calling me a paranoid?"

She nodded shamelessly at him, smiling brightly "You definitely are.." she glanced back at Bourne and hesitantly let go of Aaron's hand. "C'mon.. Let's met your new friend here.. By the looks of it, he seems as much paranoid as you are.."

* * *

Two hours and several glass of ice tea later, Marta was still sitting on the sofa, buried in files and medical reports, the hot temperature making almost impossible to focus. After they had joined Bourne, the three of them had settled inside the small house: Aaron had briefly told her about Landy's investigation and what they had discovered so far and she had the distinct feeling he had been omitting a lot of the things occurred in the past months. The fading bruises she had caught on his neck were more than an indication, but she hadn't asked anything, unsure if talking about it would have done either of them any good. Bourne on the other hand, had just questioned her about her knowledge of Treadstone and Doctor Hirsch, before handing to her the pile of papers she was now examining.

The air in the room was thick with wariness and suspicion, both of the men highly on alert around each other. Aaron's watchful eyes kept going back and forth from her to Jason, while Bourne was doing his best to stay composed and neutral, making more than an effort not to stare at her. The situation was almost ridiculous, as Aaron looked ready to snap at him anytime, an hungry lion waiting to eat his prey, while the other man seemed as uncomfortable as ever, like he had never seen a pregnant woman before. Marta would have probably laughed wholeheartedly at the idiocy of it all, but she was too busy trying not to vomit as she kept reading the content of the documents. Water boarding, sleep deprivation, sensory withdrawal: they were all techniques used for brainwashing and mind control, which apparently was what Treadstone had been all about. And as her eyes were scanning the pages, her mind was connecting dots and wondering in horror, because she had known Hirsch, who in turn had been a friend, a colleague of Doctor Hillcott. The terrifying question was impossible to ignore: how many of these things had been a part of Outcome too? How many of these things had the participants endured, had Aaron endured, while she had been safely and blissfully in her white, clean lab? Marta didn't really need to formulate the words: she finished the last page, she raised her head to look at Aaron, she stared in his stormy blue eyes. She had her answer.

Marta abruptly took her gaze away from him. She suddenly felt dirty inside out. She felt filthy, shameful, guilty: guilty of herself and her calculated ignorance, guilty towards him. Towards the man who loved her unconditionally, the man who would have gladly given up his life for her: she didn't deserve him, she didn't deserve him at all. She had betrayed his humanity, labeling him with a number as he hadn't been worth anything, she had played dumb for years, hiding behind a stethoscope and a white coat and effectively sending him to hell, all with a smile on her face. And it hadn't been just him: it had been nine different people, three of them she wasn't even sure how they had ended up like. It had been Bourne too, because maybe she hadn't been involved in Hirsch's project, but she had been a part of another team which hadn't acted any better. She was the one who deserved to be called by a sterile number, not them. They were killer, they were spy, assassins, but she was worse than them. She was the monster who had done this.

Marta came back to the present as she registered Aaron's voice insistently calling her name. She felt his hand cupping her cheek and she realized he must have come at her side and she wasn't really sure when he had done that. She frowned at the glass of water suddenly in front of her and she frowned even deeper seeing that Jason was the one handing it to her. She thought she must have looked as white as a sheet if the man had lingered in the small gesture. Marta took a deep breath, Aaron's concerned voice finally bringing her back fully to reality.

"Doc..Marta.." Hearing her name was enough of a sign: Aaron hardly called her by it.

"No, no I'm fine.. I.." she said, looking at him.

"Drink it.. now.." he ordered taking the glass from the other man.

Marta knew better than replicating when Aaron used that tone, but she swapped the cup away nonetheless "No, no..". She took one of the document in her lap and she almost shouted at him "What is this? Why didn't you tell me? Why.." she trailed off, not sure what to say, her gaze dancing aimlessly around the room.

Aaron sighed and put the glass on the floor, exchanging a quick glance with Bourne. The man nodded slightly, he rose from his chair and went outside the house, leaving them alone. Marta looked at Aaron, but before she could utter a single word, he interrupted her.

"I tried.. I tried telling you.. Several times.." he stood from the couch and walked to the opposite wall, leaning his back into it and staring at her.

"We volunteered for that, Doc.. We didn't really know how things were going to turn out, or what they were going to do with us, still I can't blame anyone but myself. And the same goes for him, even if he doesn't remember it" he said, gesturing towards the door Bourne had just exited from.

Aaron sighed again, sad and defeat, shaking his head lightly to stop Marta from saying anything. " It was my choice, I don't know how many times I've already told you that. Did I have doubts about the program, about the things they asked me to do? Yes, I did.. the deeper I was into it, the more I have questions .. And I tried telling you.. More than once.."

"When exactly?" Marta asked, angry. Her anger wasn't really for him, but she couldn't help the bitterness in her voice.

"At the lab.." he answered. He paused for a moment and Marta knew he was struggling to choose his words and she mentally braced herself, fearing what they might have been

"I hated you.." he whispered slowly, looking her in the eyes "I really did. I wanted you to talk to me, to tell me things, but every time it was just poking and prodding. You always refused to even look at me and I hated that.." He shook his head, his mind clearly chasing the memories of those days.. "Do you know why I joined the army, why I joined the program?" he glanced at her, but he didn't really want an answer "..because I wanted to be useful to my country, to help nice people like you stay safe and happy. Instead, there you were.."

Marta felt a tear running down her cheek and she looked down at her hands: he had never told her that. But before she could voice her thoughts, Aaron started talking again, his voice firm.

"Back then, I thought you just knew everything. Not about my missions, off course, but at least about the training.." he paused for awhile then he added "After, when we went to Manila, I realized you knew nothing about it. You didn't have the slightest clue of what was really going on.. And I didn't really see the point in torturing you with it.. "

Marta kept staring at her hands, she started playing with her wedding ring. She took it off, her fingers toying with it in her palm. She shook her head sadly.

"It's my fault..I.. I did this.."

Aaron sighed again, watching her carefully "No you didn't.. You didn't do any of those things to us" he pointed at the papers " but yes, it is your fault too, I'm not going to lie.. you could have asked.. you could have paid more attention.. but you didn't really want to.." he shrugged a little "Doc.. I'm in no position to judge anyone, let alone you.. But if you want absolution, I'm not going to give it you.. The same way I've never asked for your forgiveness.."

Marta closed her eyes, the accusation lingering heavy on her chest. Her voice was nothing more than a shattered sound "But you should..You should judge me.. This.." she said gesturing at the files "this is insane, this is sick. And maybe I didn't hold your head under the water, but I was a part of it.. And yes, I didn't want to ask or to pay attention..and you.." The words died on her lips: _and you are still here, always looking after me_. She didn't have the strength to voice them, but she finally forced herself to ask.

"How can you even look at me? How.." She trailed off, seeing the incredulous look Aaron was giving her. She watched as he frowned in astonishment, she kept watching as he glanced at her as the answer should be obvious. But it really wasn't for her and she closed her eyes, shivering.

Aaron came closer kneeling in front of her, his hand cupping her face to make her look at him. A chill run down her spine as he spoke, his tone a painful combination of coldness and regret.

"I wired a place full of civilians.. I killed women, children and many other people. I stole, I lied, I inflicted pain.." he stared in her eyes " And you know it.. You know everything..So, Doc, tell me.. How? How can you even look at me?" he asked in a whisper, quoting her own words.

Marta gave him the same astounded look he had worn a few second earlier. He shook his head, his thumb wiping her tears away "There's no innocent victim in this and we can't burn our past. And overall I should be the one asking why you stayed with me, I should ask why are you still here..But I won't.. because I know tonight you're just going to stay in bed with me anyway and I don't care how or why..it doesn't matter to me.."

Marta took a deep a breath, she looked as Aaron took her gold band from her palm and he slid it back on her finger. For the first time she fully got the meaning of wearing that little thing: if they were doomed to hell, at least they would have fallen together. She closed her fists on his shirt, burying her face into his chest. Aaron's arm came on her shoulders and they stayed silent for a couple of moments.

"Now.." he eventually told her "I need you to put yourself back together and be the wonderfully smart woman you are..We really need your help.."

She nodded, then she let go of him, leaning herself against the couch. She took the documents back from her lap and glanced at Aaron.

"What does he want exactly?" She asked, referring to Bourne.

"Answers, Doc.." he replied, shrugging "I'm not sure we can give him any, but at least we can try.. he deserves that much.."

"Well, thanks" Jason said appearing almost unnoticed at the doorframe

Aaron shot him a deadly stare as he spoke "I still don't like you.."

Marta caught the ghost of a smile dancing on Bourne's lips, as he retorted "Don't worry.. It's a mutual feeling.."

* * *

"I'm not sure how I can help you.." Marta said towards Jason.

It was late in the afternoon and sun was almost setting down. They had basically spent the whole day reading and exchanging information: Bourne had told Marta what he still recalled about Treadstone, he had given her details about the supposed side effects he had been experiencing, while Aaron had asked him about the training site in Alaska and his name carved in the wood.

Now, Marta was talking about programmed behavior researches, trying to related them to what had happen to Bourne. She was doubtful though that her knowledge as a virologist could be helpful and she told him so.

"Headaches, sensitivity to light, even your amnesia, they are all side effects of the _treatment.."_ She tried to elaborate the concept "Basically they put you through a huge psychological and physical trauma in order to reshape and remodel your behavior and your personality.." She glanced at him to make sure he was following and when Jason nodded she kept talking "Now.. You didn't need me to understand that. Any doctor could have told you that.."

"Why doesn't he have any of the symptoms?" Bourne said pointing at Aaron.

"My training was a little bit different than yours.." Aaron replied " They took me to the tank just once and sleep deprivation never lasted that long" he added gesturing towards the files.

"Why?" Jason asked and the other man shrugged at him.

"The chems. They didn't need to brainwash me to make me do what they wanted. They just threatened to withhold pills.. They did the cognitive degrade a couple of times.." he noticed Bourne puzzled look and he explained "They pulled me off the blue chems.. And believe me, I got the picture quite clearly.."

"It's not just that.." Marta intervened and both men turned to look at her " it depends on your enhancement too. Even if you had some side effects, probably you wouldn't even have noticed because of your pain suppression ability.." she looked at Aaron apologetically "One of the reasons we constantly monitored your blood was that you might have got problems you weren't even aware of"

"I can still feel pain, Doc.." he retorted, doubtfully.

Marta nodded "Yeah, I know. But you can handle it much better than us and your reaction to it is quite different. It's an effect of the blue side, you know it.. Anyway.." she shook her head and glanced at Bourne to return to the main topic "What do you really want from me?"

"I want to know it they did something to my physical abilities.." Jason answered

"You think you've been enhanced?" Marta asked surprised and she noticed Aaron looking at her "You think that too, don't you?"

Aaron nodded, sighing "Doc..He's a lot like me.. And you know what that means.."

She thought for a few second "Okay.. But I still don't understand what I'm supposed to do.." she saw Bourne trying to replicate but she stopped him "You don't get it..I have to run tests and I can't do that here.. I need instruments, many instruments and you can't just find them out of nowhere.. I need data, I.." A memory suddenly float to her mind, she remembered a conversation she had with Doctor Hillcott years before.

"What is it, Doc?" Aaron asked her, noticing her reflective mood.

"I.." she looked at him, a little shaken by the latest realization her mind was achieving. She paused a little, to clear her head and be able to explain everything. "When I joined the program, everything was already settled. The medical treatment, the participants..I wasn't there from the beginning, but I knew Doctor Hillcott had been studying genetic enhancement, he actually started his research years before Outcome.." she glanced at Aaron "I told you.. The incident at Fort Detrick, the discovery of the viral receptor map.."

Aaron nodded and Marta kept talking "He told me than the main focus of the program was to test the effects of cognitive upgrade.."

"The blue side?" Jason asked.

"Yeah.." Aaron answered "What about the green side?" He inquired, even though he already had an idea of where she was going with this.

"He told me it had already been tested. He basically took over another project data and made some improvements.." she trailed off, looking at Bourne.

"Treadstone.." he said.

Marta shrugged, her mind racing with a million different thoughts "I need to run tests to be sure. And.."

"And you need a lab for that.." Aaron finished the sentence for her. He took a pen and a notebook and handed both to her. "What exams does he have to do?"

Jason looked quizzically at the other man and Aaron shot him a deadly stare "I'm not taking her to any lab and if you even suggest it, I'd have your head on a stick by dinner time.." He said coldly.

Bourne raised his hands and glanced briefly at Marta's rounded belly "I'd never ask that.." he replied honestly.

"Good.." Aaron turned again towards Marta "We can run the tests and send the results to you.."

"How?" she asked, doubtfully.

"We'll get creative.." he said simply. He watched her for a moment, he caught the apology in her beautiful eyes and he knew what she was going to say next.

"Aaron.."

"Yeah.." he interrupted her "I have to get tested too.."

She sighed sadly, looking at him. She didn't really like the thought of him being her patient again, but if she was correct and Treadstone had been indeed Outcome platform, she would need to compare their test results. True to be told, she wasn't really looking forward to any of this: she had really wished she could have erased that part of her life. But Aaron was right: they couldn't just burn their past.

Marta smiled a little as Aaron started looking around the kitchen to make something for dinner. She couldn't help thinking how much she had been missing having him around her, his smile, his way of teasing her. She felt the baby moving and she brushed her hands against her belly. In that moment, Marta thought that her past would always be a huge, red stain on her conscience. And as she watched Aaron right there in front of her, she just hoped that dreaming about the future, wouldn't totally break her apart.


	16. Chapter 16

**Warning: **this chapter is** rated M.**

Thanks for reading. Enjoy..:D

* * *

This time it was impossible to shut it down. The hatred, soul shattering feeling that she wasn't going to see him again, that he wasn't going to come back: this time, Marta couldn't ignore it. She was utterly terrified, because it wasn't just an abhorrent sensation anymore: it was an illness, it was a virus and it was infecting every cell, every little drop of blood in her body. There was no little voice in the back of her mind, but a loud, on-going scream shouting in her head: this time, there would be no next time.

The little house on the beach was finally silent and the darkness had settled outside. She could hear the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore, from the window she caught a glimpse of the beautiful, starry night, but none of it was charming though, at least not for her: everything felt just like a curse and angry ghosts and bloody nightmares were patiently waiting to take them over. But as strange as it might have seemed, Marta was deadly calm. She closed the door of the bathroom behind her, she slowly walked towards the bedroom, her barefoot steps soundless on the floor: she knew what she had to do. And she knew it was going to hurt like hell, she knew it was going to leave a permanent, deep mark on both of them, but she had no doubt at all about it. It was as simple as that: she was just going to give him what he really wanted.

Marta took a deep breath and she reached for the door knob. She entered the room and she leant against the wall, watching as Aaron paced back and forth, speaking on the phone in Arabic with Rachid. She was going to give him what he was longing for, what he had been longing for the entire day, the same thing he had fiercely and stubbornly denied himself: and Marta knew it was probably going to kill him, she just knew it. Aaron was a soldier, a warrior who carried himself around with the confidence of the great fighter he was : it stung to her how of all people, she was going to be the one to finally beat him. She knew that what she was just about to do, would mercilessly break him down, but she didn't care though: she just wanted him to know how happiness really felt, even if just for once, even if just for the briefest of the moment. He deserved that much, she owned him that much: and it certainly was the cruelest of the things to do, giving him a little taste of everything he couldn't have, but it didn't matter. If she couldn't have a lifetime to show him how much loved he was, how much goodness had come from him, then she would try to do it all at once. If a lifetime was something out of their reach, then they could steal at least one night.

Marta sat on the bed, still staring at Aaron. He smiled lightly at her and she returned it, even though all she could do was thinking that in the morning they would both painfully regret it. In the morning, everything was going to be different, in the morning reality would have been back making fun of them. She watched as Aaron hung up the phone and sat next to her, kissing softly her cheek and brushing her hair away from her face. She leant into the touch of his lips and she mentally shrugged: it wasn't morning yet and until dawn, reality would be just a meaningless word. For once, just for once, she wanted to give him what he'd always thought as something he didn't deserve: peace.

Before Aaron could even realize what she was doing, Marta shifted closer to him and took his hand: she held it firmly against her belly. In that exact moment, the baby moved.

* * *

Aaron froze in spot, a sharp intake of breath caught in the middle of his throat and he tried to take his hand away. But Marta didn't let him and that was enough of sign for her, because she knew that if he had really wanted he would have already been at the other side of the room. And it was literally breaking her how much he was fighting himself, it had been shattering her all day long, because from the moment he had joined her on the beach that morning, his conflicted emotions had been displayed all over his handsome features. Right then, she had immediately come to the decision that this time she wasn't going to play along, because she hadn't been able to shut down the horrible thought that this was the last chance they had. And now, as Aaron buried his head defeated in her shoulder, his breath a trembling caress against her skin, that same idea lingered unuttered between their joined bodies.

"Doc.. Please.." he murmured and Marta thought that her heart had definitely skipped a beat: the plea in his voice, was something that couldn't belong to a man like him.

She didn't say anything though, she just kept holding him close to her. She turned a little, her lips brushing soothingly on his forehead and she shifted slightly his hand on her stomach to let him feel the movements inside. After a couple of minutes spent like that, Marta closed her eyes and a tear fell freely on her cheek, as she realized that he had finally surrendered: his palm was brushing her belly on its own. She let go of her grip on his hand, but he didn't move it away from her and she tangled her fingers in his hair, as she saw that he was actually staring down at her rounded stomach.

"She likes you.." Marta whispered, as the baby kept moving under his light touch. Aaron jerked his head up to look at her, his eyes sparkling with hope and she smiled at him, nodding reassuringly "I'm not surprised though.. You seem to have your way of charming women.."

Her words were lost somewhere in her throat, as Aaron cupped her face and his mouth found hers. And it was angry, and it was sad, and it was utterly amazing. It was a craving kiss, it was a kiss hungry of all the things they so desperately wanted and they knew they couldn't have. Marta shivered as she felt his emotions, his fears, washing all over her, she shivered again as his lips were now on her chin, on her jaw, on her neck, his tongue leaving a hot, wet trail on her flesh. It was desperate and sweet at the same time and she didn't miss the seriousness, the gravity in his voice as he murmured against her skin.

"This is it, isn't it?" and his mouth was on hers again "My way to go. Crying in your arms like a wimp.."

Marta slowly broke the kiss, her fingers tracing softly the lines of his face. She stared at him and her voice was calm and even "I can think of worse ways than that.."

Aaron looked back at her, as an unspoken conversation lingered in the air. Neither of them had meant the words as a joke and they both knew what really was behind them. He imperceptible nodded at her and he carefully put his hands back on her stomach, watching as he brushed his own fingers against her. After awhile, he tugged at her arms and made her stand, pulling her closer between his legs. He hesitated for a moment, then as he couldn't hold himself anymore, he sighed deeply and rested his head against her belly. Marta closed her eyes, as his fingers were now at hem of her dress, showing it upright to expose her body: when his lips started gently traveling all over her bare abdomen, she could do nothing to stop the overwhelming emotions breaking throughout her.

Aaron rose from the bed, taking her in his arms, while his hands found the zip at the back of her dress, slowly undoing it. He slid down the straps on her shoulders, hesitantly removing the cloth and once the dress was on the floor, he stared intently down at her body. His eyes were roaming all over her and Marta felt his burning gaze studying every little inch of naked skin. The pregnancy had obviously changed her curves: her breast were bigger, her hips were softer and everything was more rounded. And as she looked at the way he was glancing at her, Marta realized he was almost afraid of touching her. She cupped his cheek, smiling lightly to reassure him, then she undressed him. His own clothes soon joined her dress at their feet and she pretended not to notice the several bruises and scratches on his chest. As she placed a lingering kiss on his heart, Aaron finally snapped back from his exploration: he grabbed her by the waist and in mere seconds they were both on the bed.

Aaron lied down by her side, his visual tour of her now a joint operation with the warm, strong touch of his hands. Marta moaned softly, as he fingers were at his breast, his thumb caressing her nipple and she moaned louder as he sucked lightly at her pulse point. His hand went lower, purposely indulging in every curve on the way, until it finally was at its destination. He slid away her black panties, then he continued his travel on her skin, grasping at her legs, at her thighs, at her hips. It was a slow, delicate discovery of all the things he had missed and he was tasting her like she was an exotic fruit he had never eat before. Marta gasped, as he gently pushed his fingers into her, his mouth at her breast.

"You look beautiful" Aaron whispered, his tongue playing with her nipple. She gripped at the pillow underneath her, as she felt his fingers going deeper and his thumb rubbing at her clit. She slightly turned her face to look at him, her back arching under his soft ministrations of her.

"You look like it's written all over your body that you're mine.." he murmured.

The words made Marta tremble. Not for their meaning, not even for the intensity in his voice, but because he was actually uttering them. Aaron hooked her leg on his hips, she moaned loudly as he slid himself inside of her. He moved slowly, gently and somewhere in the back of her mind, Marta vaguely realized he was probably afraid of hurting her. But the thought didn't fully register, as a myriad of other sensations was rushing throughout her: his body tangled into hers, her release building up , his voice. He kept talking, he kept whispering all the things she had never thought he would have ever said out loud. She desperately gripped at his arms, his words melting with her memories as he confessed all the secrets he had always denied her: how much he loved her, how much he had loved her since the Filipino boat. How he had never meant his wedding ring as a part of a cover, because he had always known there was no one else on earth for him. How much he wanted to stay, how much he wanted to go back to Mombasa and their little house, how much he wanted to see their daughter growing up.

Aaron's hand clasped on her mouth to muffle her loud moans, his thumb wiping away her hot tears. She was writhing and trembling, her orgasm a painful mixture of physical pleasure and heart breaking emotions: Marta knew all of those things already, Marta had always known them. But Aaron saying the words was another matter though: it wasn't a sign of acknowledgment, it was a sign of capitulation. After all their time together, he had finally surrendered to her, he had finally given up. And as she felt his own release filling her body, Marta vainly tried to silence her terror: a warrior never surrendered. A warrior could only be defeated.

* * *

When Aaron woke up the morning after, he took him a couple of seconds to realize she wasn't in the bed with him. He jolted up startled and he let out his breath in relief only when he heard the shower running. He recognized other sounds coming from the kitchen and he went immediately on alert, until it finally occurred to him that they weren't alone in the house: Bourne was there too. As he sat on the bed and put his boxer back on, two things became suddenly clear to him: he had overslept and as if that wasn't already enough, his instincts were all over the place, since he hadn't even acknowledged Marta leaving the bedroom. And that wasn't good.

Aaron passed an hand on his face, trying to put himself back together, then he searched for his clothes still scattered on the floor. He looked at his watch and he frowned, realizing that it was only 6 in the morning: even though he felt as rested as ever, he had actually slept no more than an hour. The last time he had checked, it had been almost 5 a.m. and he and Marta had still been very much awake. They had spent the night talking: Marta had told him about the past months at the mission, about the new nurse and Abasi while he had asked her about her health and how she had been feeling. They had made love again, the desire finally taking over the softness and they had been sweating and panting against each other. And Aaron was surprised he didn't even recall when he had fallen asleep, because the last thing he remembered was smiling against Marta's belly.

Aaron sighed, as the sounds from the kitchen brought him back to the reality of their situation. He quickly got dressed and headed outside the room, but as hard as he tried he couldn't shake away the warmth cradling in his chest. The past night was going to haunt and torture him endlessly, as much as that night in Demre: still, the previous hours had certainly been the happiest of his entire life. He wasn't sure though, if he had to thank Marta for it, or blame her instead. It amazed and scared him at the same time, how much power she had over him, because she was the only one person in the whole world who could actually take him down on his knees and make him beg for mercy. And that had pretty much been what she had knowingly done earlier: he knew she had meant the night before as a gift, but he couldn't help thinking that gifts weren't always meant to be opened.

Aaron entered the empty kitchen and from the open door he spotted Jason walking on the beach. He found the coffee pot still warm on the table and he thought with a chuckle that at least the other man had made himself useful. As he was filling his mug, he felt Marta's arms at his waist: she kissed the back of his neck and he slid his free hand on hers.

"You shouldn't have done that, Doc.." he whispered and they both knew what he was referring to.

He felt her wet hair brushing against him and he almost smile at the stubbornness in her voice.

"But I did, didn't I?" she answered softly, before losing her grip on him.

She poured herself a glass of water and Aaron turned to look at her: she was wearing her red dress again and it was impossible for him not to notice the concern written all over her face. He immediately felt guilty, but before he could said anything, Bourne joined them. Marta smiled politely at the man and Jason nodded in return, before glancing questioningly at Aaron.

"He's going to be here in the afternoon. He said he can help us.." Aaron told him, as an answer to his silent question.

"Do you trust him?" Jason asked, doubtfully.

Aaron shrugged " He doesn't care about anything but money. As long as we pay him, he won't ask.." he paused than looked at Marta "I'm not sure though we can get you everything you need.."

She nodded thoughtfully at him "I'll try my best with what I can get.." she replied simply.

The three of them kept talking about what to do next for another few minutes, until Bourne excused himself and headed in his room to change. Aaron sighed, then checked his watch.

"I have to go to the village, do a few things. I'll be back in an hour.." he said to Marta.

She glanced at him, shrugging "I'll be on the beach.." she answered and she went outside the house.

Aaron stared at her as she walked towards the shore, a million different thoughts running in his mind. He kept looking at her from his spot, images of the past night floating into him. Suddenly, he moved and exited the door, joining her on the beach. Before Marta could even realize he had followed her, he pulled her against his chest, his arms holding her tightly, his lips against her ear.

"You shouldn't have done that.." he whispered, repeating the words he had told her minutes before.

"But I did, didn't I?" she retorted in the same way.

Aaron felt her shivering as he slowly kissed her neck. When his mouth was at her earlobe, he spoke again. His voice was barely audible and he himself wasn't sure he was really saying anything.

"Doc... Thank you.."


	17. Chapter 17

I'm really, really sorry it took this long to update. But sadly, I've been sick and I've been in bed with the flu the entire week..:(

Anyway, here we are.. Thanks to everyone who's been following this story..:D

* * *

Jason Bourne leant against the window, watching as the rain was heavily pouring outside. He scanned the streets for the hundredth time, he checked his watch once more: Pamela was supposed to arrive at the safe house in Manhattan in less than twenty minutes. Apparently, Nicky was coming too, as well as O'Malley, and Jason had the distinct impression that the meeting wasn't just going to be an assessment of the situation. Something was up, though he wasn't sure what it was. And from the look Cross was giving him from the other side of the room, he could tell he was thinking the same thing.

Two weeks had passed since their meeting with Doctor Shearing and he and Aaron were finally back in New York City. From Zanzibar they had gone first in Egypt, then in Qatar, where thanks to Cross's contact, they had managed to get some of the tests Marta had asked them to do. It hadn't been easy and the man Rachid had sent them to, had wanted much more money than they had thought. It had been way too risky, but somehow they had made it through: they had paid the guy, who in turn had helped them to break into the private clinic at night and run the exams, then they had taken their separate ways to go back to the States. He didn't know much about Aaron's whereabouts in the latest days, besides the obvious fact that Landy had asked him too to attend the meeting. Other than that, the only thing Jason knew for sure was that the other man looked haunted and exhausted. The same way he had been looking since they had left Zanzibar.

Bourne watched intently at Cross, who was now sitting on the couch, his back leaning heavily against it and his eyes closed. Jason mentally sighed and for the millionth time he wondered if their trip to Africa hadn't been a huge mistake. It wasn't a new thought for him, because he had kept asking himself that same question since the very first moment he had seen Marta. Her pregnancy had been a shocking discovery and the minute he had spotted her rounded belly, everything had finally become clear to him: why Aaron was working so hard to keep her hidden, why he was risking so much for her. He had felt beyond guilty, because his insistence had brought them there and their presence could have put the woman in great danger: a killer sent to take them out would have put a bullet in her head anyway, without much of a second thought. And that was exactly why Cross had been keeping himself as far away as possible from her: the greatest threat for Marta was none other than him. And as hurtful as it was, that was a feeling Bourne knew all too well.

That day in Zanzibar had saddened and angered Jason at the same time. It had painfully reminded him of Marie, of her lifeless body in the water, of all the things that had been taken away from him, from all of them. Rationally, he probably should have thought how stupid Aaron and Marta had been, because as an hyper-vigilant asset and as a doctor they both should have known better than to let that happen. Instead though, he had found himself wondering how much he and Aaron still had to pay, how much they still had to give and if that would ever be enough. He had lost everything already, while Aaron was doing nothing less than sacrificing himself just to keep his wife, his family, out of harm's way. And despite everything, despite the fact that he still didn't like the man, Jason had no hesitation to admit he greatly respected Cross for that.

But Jason's guilt, though, wasn't the only thing which had come out from their short stay in Africa. He had no idea what had occurred between Cross and Marta that night in Jambiani, but since then something in Aaron had definitely changed. He had been effective and fast to think as usual, still Bourne hadn't missed how his mood had become darker and how he constantly seemed ready to snap. Which it was completely out of his character, because since the first time they had met, it had been quite clear to him that Cross was more than capable to keep himself in check. It was none of his business, still Jason couldn't help but wonder: to everyone else the former outcome agent might have seemed calm and deadly as always, but he definitely knew better than that. Something had shifted and even though Aaron was trying his best to cover it up, Bourne had noticed it nonetheless. Jason wasn't stranger to feelings, neither he was stupid, he could easily guess how hard everything was for the other man, how difficult must have been for him to leave his woman, pregnant and alone, on the other side of the planet. Still, it wasn't like the situation before their trip to Zanzibar had been any different and until then, Aaron had managed to keep himself together just fine. So, whatever it was, it had something to do with that night. And whatever it was, Bourne had no doubt that because of it, the man was reaching his breaking point.

They had spent most of their time in Jambiani analyzing documents and discussing scientific researches and as far as he recalled nothing major had happened. At least not in front of him: in his presence, Marta and Aaron had been nothing but composed and focused. They had kept their distance and they had avoided even the smallest of the gestures: besides the hug on the beach, Jason couldn't remember a single time they had even casually touched. He had appreciated the effort and he had respected their privacy, still it had been kind of amusing to him, because even a blind man could have told how deep their feelings were. It was impossible not to notice how close they were, it was hard to ignore how well they could read each other. Jason hadn't miss how comfortable they had been, as the time apart hadn't mattered at all, as being together was for them as obvious as breathing. A public display of affection hadn't really been necessary to get that: even if they had been at the opposite sides of a room full of people, it would have still been as clear as the sun that they were a couple. Nonetheless, they had both spent the day with him, guessing and planning: but once the night had come and everyone had settled behind closed doors, then it had been a complete different story. Jason had heard the headboard trashing against the wall, he had known they had been awake the entire time, but that was just the obvious part of it: the tortured expression Aaron had been wearing since the morning after, had nothing to do with sex. Bourne would have never asked, it wasn't his place and neither he wanted to intrude in the other man's personal space, but still, he was worried. And his concern wasn't really out of affection, because they could have hardly been called friends: his major wonder was how much of danger Cross had become. Despite his sympathy for the situation, Jason couldn't help fearing that the man was turning into a loose cannon, that he was slowly becoming the biggest of the threat: for the entire operation, for everyone involved and mostly, for himself.

Overall, their trip to Africa hadn't exactly been a success. The only purpose of it all had been to gain a little more knowledge, but besides Jason's guilt and Cross's torment, they hadn't really got that much. They hadn't been able to get even half of the exams Marta wanted and even though Aaron had told him that she would have probably come up with something anyway, Bourne couldn't help feeling as it wasn't worth the risk. Not to mention that even if she did, indeed, find something useful, it wasn't like they could use it or informed Pamela about it: telling her, would have meant explaining how they had got the information, which in turn would have led to Doctor Shearing. Cross would have killed him on the spot if he had even tried to spill the beans, but truth to be told Jason didn't really need the incentive to keep his mouth shut: he would have never done that.

Jason came back to reality as he heard Cross shifting on the couch. He glanced around the room, he slid down to sit on the floor, then he looked at the other man a few feet away from him: to a casual observer, Aaron would have seemed asleep, but he knew better than that. The man was on high alert as usual and Bourne had no doubt he was aware of the fact he had been staring at him. He sighed, a million different thought racing in his mind, then after a couple of moments he finally decided to speak. Despite himself, he finally decided to ask.

"What is wrong with you?"Jason said.

Aaron slowly opened his eyes to look back at him. He intently studied Jason, he kept glaring at him for at least a minute, his face a mask of coldness and wariness.

"Why do you care?" Cross eventually asked, suspicious.

"I don't.." Jason replied honestly "I just want to be sure you're not going to blow the whole thing up.."

Bourne saw the other man lightly shaking his head, but he didn't miss how Aaron hadn't even tried to deny that there was indeed something. He sighed in apprehension: that was bad enough already.

Cross stared at him, his expression somewhere in between annoyed and defeat.

"You saw her.." he whispered, his gaze wandering aimlessly around the room. He made a gesture with his hands, as the answer should be obvious already, then he snorted "What do you think it's wrong with me?"

Jason didn't reply, he just nodded absently at the other man and stared down at the floor. It wasn't really an explanation, but he knew Aaron wasn't just going to give up that easily. Aaron was probably not going to give up at all and Bourne couldn't really blame him, because in the end Cross's private life was none of his business. But he wasn't asking out of curiosity: he had to know. He had to know where the man's mind really was, otherwise he would have never been able to trust him.

"Yeah.. I saw her.." Jason spoke after awhile. He glanced at Aaron, frowning thoughtfully "How did that one happen anyway?"

Cross shot him an astounded look. He held back a laugh, mildly amused and raised playfully an eyebrow at him "Really? Did you fail your biology class?.."

Jason rolled his eyes annoyed."You know what I mean.." he said, interrupting the other man. What he was really asking was how someone like Cross could let something like that happen, because the man was definitely better than that. And Bourne was pretty sure Aaron knew exactly what his question was: he was just trying to ignore it.

Aaron let a bitter chuckle escaped his lips. He brushed an hand over his face, trying his best not to lose his calm, clearly thinking about a gateway from the conversation. Eventually though, he just shrugged and started talking. And Jason was beyond surprise when he realized the man was actually answering him with nothing less than the simple truth, something that he took as another bad sign: Cross wasn't even arguing, which for Bourne was enough of an indication of his state of mind.

" You know how it works where you are on the run.." Aaron said "you can't shut your brain, you think twice about everything you're doing. Literally _everything_.." He emphasized the word to make his point. When Jason nodded in understanding, he kept speaking "We spent months like that..Eventually, we found a place and we settled down. And after everything, it just felt good to finally stop..we felt safe there.." he shook his head, sadly. His voice then went lower "you know.. even someone like me can let his guard down and when you do.." he paused a little, chasing the words in his mind "well when you do, you're just a man like anyone else.. And men don't always think.."

Bourne tore his gaze away from Aaron. He knew all too well what he was talking about, because he had experienced the same feeling during his time in Goa. Overall he couldn't help thinking that the other man had been way luckier than him: Marie had died because of that. Marie had died because he had let his guard down, because they had felt safe, while Marta was still out there, unharmed and well. But Jason didn't voice that thought: Doctor Shearing might have been safe, but the price Aaron was paying to make that possible was still immense. The price had been to leave her, to leave everything behind. And as understanding sank into him, Jason realized why Aaron was there, why he had contacted Pamela in the first place: the only way he had to go back to Marta without risking her life, was to shut everything down. He wasn't looking for truth, or justice, or revenge: he was looking for a way to earn what he wanted. Because the biggest difference between the two of them wasn't which program they had been a part of, it wasn't about pills or missions: Jason had nothing left. But Aaron, well, Aaron had still everything to lose.

"I'm not going to flip out and blow everything up.." Cross said, glancing at him as Bourne's thoughts had been obvious to him. "You can rest in peace, don't worry.."

"Really?" Jason whispered, doubtfully.

Aaron lightly nodded at him "I already did what I had to.." he shrugged, his voice a low sound "My wife will be alright..And my daughter too.."

Bourne looked at the other man, the worries in his mind since Zanzibar becoming certainty as he heard the word. In that moment he realized that Cross was indeed a loose cannon, he was a danger for the entire investigation: whatever intentions Landy had, Aaron had his own mission and he would have accomplished that, or he would have died trying. And it was kind of amusing to Jason really, because God only knew how many things they had endured, how hard Hirsch and Hilcott had tried to wipe away from them any emotion. But right now, right then, Aaron's feelings were his most powerful weapon, because they were giving him something he had never had before: a motive. And right now, right then, Aaron's feelings were also his greatest weakness, because they were making him experience a sensation he had never had before: fear.

Jason sighed deeply, his evaluation finally coming to a conclusion: no, Aaron Cross couldn't be trusted. Aaron Cross was way too vulnerable.

* * *

"This is way bigger than we thought.."Pamela Landy said " The Pentagon, the Department of Defense.. You have no idea who are the people involved.."

Aaron cringed in frustration, silencing the woman. It had been two hours since Landy, Nicky Parsons and O'Malley had joined them at the safe house, two hours he and Bourne had spent listening to them and their latest discoveries. Apparently, the programs activated by the NRAG were at least five: Emerald Lake, Treadstone, Blackbriar, Outcome and Larx. Cross had never heard about the latest one, but Pamela seemed quite concerned about it since the project was supposed to be an upgraded version of both Treadstone and Outcome. Aaron though, wasn't really impressed, nor surprised by any of it.

"Oh no, I think I have a pretty good idea.." Aaron said, looking at her "I used to work for them.."

"I don't really see any other option available.." the woman replied calmly.

Cross exchanged a quick glance with Bourne who was sitting at the opposite side of the table. Aaron didn't need to ask to know what was on the other's man mind: they were both thinking how insane everything sounded. Besides the update on the new information about the programs, they had been debriefed on what the plan of action was and to Aaron it had seemed way too simple to be even considered as a real option. Besides, if the concept underneath it all was quite easy to understand, the way to achieve their goal wasn't exactly harmless. But his and Jason's protests had been easily dismissed by Pamela and O'Malley, because they couldn't see anything else to do. And he hated to admit they were probably right.

"Do you really think this is going to work?" Bourne asked, the doubt in his voice unmistakable.

"No.." this time was Nicky the one answering "But right now it's the only thing we can try.."

"He's getting suspicious.." Aaron intervened and as everyone was questioningly looking at him he clarified "Byer.."

"Why would he suspect anything?" Fred O'Malley asked.

Cross didn't have the time to answer, because Jason preceded him " Because he's still alive.." Bourne glanced at the FBI agent " If he really wanted Byer dead" he explained pointing towards Aaron "he'd be already.. Pretty soon the guy is going to ask himself why he's still breathing.."

Pamela nodded absently "Yeah, we got to speed things up a little bit.."

"What about your man inside?" Jason said, questioning O'Malley.

The man looked at him, raising an eyebrow confused "What man inside?"

Aaron chuckled lightly at his answer and gestured towards the files on the table, voicing Bourne's thoughts "So I guess you just knocked at the NRAG door and politely asked to have these.." he threw the other man a cold smile "It's not like you ask me to scare the crap out of Byer so he would add new people among his security. And then you could send someone in to be your mole.." Aaron noticed Fred surprised expression and he added, amused "You know.. we have been playing this game for awhile.. we kind of know how it works.."

Jason interrupted him, returning to the main topic "Is his cover solid? Is he good?"

"He'd better be.." Cross said coldly, before O'Malley could reply anything.

The man glanced back and forth from Aaron to Jason, clearly trying to maintain his composure. "It's impossible to have a conversation with the two of you.."

"Really?" the former outcome agent asked, the challenging mock in his words quite obvious.

"Okay, that's enough.." Nicky intervened hastily, to put an end to the on-going argument. The men looked at her and eventually Aaron raised his hands as a sign of truce, while O'Malley nodded at him. As silence settled again, the woman started talking. "We need to hurry up, we can't really waste time like this... And I need to talk to both of you" she added glancing to Bourne and Cross.

Jason sighed "What do you need?"

"We go through your file again.. See if we miss anything.." Nick answered. Then she looked at Aaron "I need some clarifications from you too.."

"Like what exactly?" the man inquired.

Pamela spoke before Nicky "Everything you know about Sterysh Morlanta. The Candence Group is a huge part of this.." she paused a little then she added " And I want to know everything about Smirnov.."

Aaron nodded slightly at her, an hard expression on his face. Everyone went silent and after a couple of moments, he saw O'Malley starting gathering his things to leave. He watched as Nicky moved next to Jason and they started examining a file. He passed an hand through his hair, sighing deeply, than looked at Pamela.

"That's it?" he whispered to her.

"That's it.." she replied to him.

Aaron leant back against his chair, frowning deeply "It just seems way too easy.."

The woman stood, taking his purse with her and shrugged at him "Sometimes the simplest of the things turns out to be the most effective.."

The man closed his eyes for a moment, but he didn't say anything else. Eventually he heard Landy and O'Malley making arrangements with Nicky, then leaving the house. He shudder a little, he raised his head and stared at the door the two had just closed. He thought about what Pamela had told him a minute before, about what he and Bourne had to do next: it wasn't that complicated, he had done things way more dangerous and way worse than that. Still he didn't like it, he didn't like it all: life had been nothing but unpredictable for him. And suddenly his mind was chasing memories on its own: his time as an agent, the training site in Alaska, Manila, Marta. He remembered the months in Mombasa, their tiny, little house, all the nights spent with her. He recalled her red dress scattered on the floor in that room in Zanzibar, the feeling of her skin underneath his hands.

At that thought, Aaron shivered again: Pamela was clearly wrong, she was completely wrong. Because things were never that easy. At least, not for him.


	18. Chapter 18

I know I've said this over and over again: but as much as I'd love to, none of this is mine..

Thanks for reading..Enjoy..:D

* * *

How easily desperation could lead to insanity, wasn't a lost concept for Aaron Cross. And as he rushed towards the bathroom, trying to steady himself as best as he could, the man had only one certainty: he was definitely, unarguably going mad.

Aaron frantically open the valve of the sink, he lowered his head to let the water drip on his skin, his hands trembling violently and his entire body soaked in cold sweat. He shut his eyes closed, waiting for his ragged breath to go back to normal, for his heart to stop beating that fast in his chest. Luckily, the sensation of the water running against him was somehow alleviating and after a minute he felt his body relaxing a little. Aaron stood, he looked at his reflection in the mirror and it took all of the self-control he was still capable of not to throw a punch against it. Instead, he gripped tightly at the sink, exhaling in and out, his frustration growing at the sounds coming from downstairs. He silently groaned, remembering that Bourne was at the safe house too, remembering why they were both there in the first place: he definitely needed to put himself back together, he definitely needed to calm himself down. Still shaken, Aaron sat on the floor, patiently waiting to regain some sort of composure. He checked his watch: it was 4 in the morning. He knew sleep wasn't any longer an option.

But truth to be told, sleep hadn't been an option for him in a very long time. Enhanced or not, it amazed Aaron how his body was still able to work at all, because he was nothing but exhausted: once again, nightmares had been eating him inside out. In the past seven months his dreams had never stopped haunting him, his dreams had been an endless sequence of horrible images: he was honest enough with himself though, to admit that the whole thing had taken a significant turn for the worse in the latest weeks. If his nightmares had been frightening before, since he had left Jambiani, they had become nothing less than an horror movie. Aaron himself couldn't quite believe it, but he had actually reached to the point that he was terrified to even close his eyes. Because every time he did it, the one thing all of his nightmares had in common, would appear in his mind right away: a blond, little girl who stared at him. The girl never spoke, she never did anything at all, besides intently looking at him, her blue eyes filled with pity and disgust. Aaron knew who she was, or at least who she was supposed to be and every time he tried to reach for her, every time he tried to save her. He had dreamt about Byer shooting her, about Hillcott taking her to the tank, but it always ended the same way: the girl didn't utter a single word, she just glared at him, but he couldn't move, he couldn't do anything to help her. Or Marta, because, off course, she was a part of the nightmares too: sometimes she yelled at him, sometimes she was desperately sobbing, a gun pointed at her temple and the little girl's body in her lap. Like the dream that had startled him awake just moments before, where Marta had been in their house in Mombasa wearing her red dress. Except that the fabric had been of an immaculate white: until the blood had started dripping all over her, making the dress crimson colored again.

Aaron shook his head, trying to erase the images, he took a deep breath, then he checked his watch again: in a couple of hours he and Bourne had to leave. They had to leave, they had to go and do what Pamela had asked them to the evening before. So, he needed to focus, he needed to shut the fears down, he needed to be outcome five, the deadly, cynical agent he had been trained to be. The more he tried though, the more he failed: the more he tried, the more he felt the hatred glare of the little girl directed at him, the more he tried the more he saw Marta's blood at his feet. And it didn't matter how hard he kept telling himself that the girl didn't exist, not yet, that his wife was safe and unharmed: the connection between his rational part and his emotional one, was completely failing him.

Aaron frowned deeply, then he stood from the floor: he was a walking mess and there was very little he could do about it. Facing Jason right now was going to be a mistake, because his expression would have instantly confirmed the other man's worries about him. Nonetheless he left the bathroom anyway: his poker face might have been lost, but they still had a job to do. And Bourne knew everything already, his state of mind wasn't really going to be a brand new information for the man: Jason had been watching him closely in the latest day, he was aware of that. But at this point Aaron didn't even care: he didn't care about anything anymore, besides something, someone who was miles and miles away from him. He didn't care about anything anymore, besides what he knew he couldn't have.

Aaron went downstairs, slowly walking through the silent house. Once in the living room, he found Bourne by the window, watching absently outside the street and clearly lost in his own thoughts. He had no doubt he had heard him coming, but either way, Jason didn't move. For a brief second, Aaron was relieved of that, even though he knew it wasn't going to last.

"Why are you up, already?" Jason asked, still staring through the glass.

"Why are you?" Aaron retorted, irritated.

Bourne finally turned to look at him and Cross sighed in frustration, because he didn't miss the way the other man's body tensed as he took in what he was seeing.

"You look like hell.." Jason stated, glancing at him up and down.

Aaron sat on the couch, the ghost of a smirk playing behind his eyes "Well, I guess you're lucky you're not taking me out on a date then.."

Jason ignored the joke and kept studying him. Eventually he spoke "Nightmares.."

It wasn't a question and Aaron didn't answer. He briefly glanced at the other man, he caught a glimpse of understanding in his stare, he frowned.

"Look.." Cross whispered, in an attempt to end the conversation before it could even start. Right now, the last thing he needed was to explain himself. But he didn't really have the time to say anything, because Jason interrupted him.

"I'm not asking.." he whispered, shaking his head. He glanced at Aaron, rubbing an hand on his forehead thoughtfully. After a while he spoke again" You know that we need him alive.."

Aaron arched questioningly his eyebrows at him. The sudden change of topic didn't surprise him: he had a quite clear idea of what Bourne was telling him.

"What are you implying exactly?" He asked, as he didn't know already.

Jason shrugged, then replied "I just want to be sure you won't kill Byer as soon as you see him"

"Is this why you are coming with me? To make sure I don't put a bullet in his head right away?" Cross hissed.

"Yes.." Jason answered calmly, as it was obvious. "I know you've been thinking about it.."

Aaron stared at him, anger flashing in his eyes. "I have" He admitted without hesitation.

Off course he had thought about it, it was pointless to deny it. For Landy's investigation, Byer was just the mean to an end: as influent as he was, the former colonel was just the tip of the iceberg. Other people were involved, people in much more high-powered positions and Pamela's goal was to take them down and cut the head off the snake once and for all: Byer's death wouldn't really be helpful, since the entire plan was nothing more than coercing the man to collaborate with them. Aaron's feeling were a different story though: by all means, Eric Byer was his worst enemy. The man would have never stopped chasing him, the man was the reason keeping him away from the only one place he had ever called home. Rationally, he knew Bourne was right, he knew the former colonel's death wouldn't have solved anything: but another part of his mind kept thinking about the whole situation in a very different way. There was this side of him, the side of him that just wanted to go back to Marta and their life together and Aaron couldn't help the idea that with Byer gone he could have had just that, he could have gained his freedom back. He doubted that anyone else besides the NRAG director and his staff, knew about agent's identities and their whereabouts, it was security protocol after all: the only obstacle to his happiness was none other than the former colonel. And it angered him to no end the fact that once again, even after everything he had gone through, what he wanted didn't really matter.

The thought made Aaron cringe and even if he wasn't holding it, he could feel the weight of the gun in his hand. He glanced at Bourne, who was still studying his reactions from his spot, a knowing expression on his face.

"If I were you" Jason said, his tone grave " I would have killed the guy already.." he paused for a moment then he added "And that's exactly why I don't trust you.."

"Good.." Aaron replied, standing to leave the room "'Cause I don't trust myself either.."

* * *

The blue chems. In the end, the difference between Treadstone and Outcome came to nothing more than that: those damned, little pills. Marta wrote on the paper in front of her, she scrubbed down a few other things, before putting everything back in the folder. She sighed deeply, staring at the item as it might have burnt down in flames at any moment. It definitely should have.

In the past days, Marta had been studying the test results Aaron and Bourne had sent to her. They weren't really enough to let her make a detailed assessment of Jason's condition, still she had the answer they had been looking for: he had been enhanced. As she had suspected, the physical side, the green side, had been previously tested during Treadstone and the discovery had made her cringe. She didn't have enough data to confirm it, neither she could rely on Jason's memories, still Marta was quite confident the participants had been injected with live virus right away, which was as wrong as it got. The temporary adhesion allowed by the pills, a step entirely skipped during the program, had served many purposes: on a scientific standpoint of view, the chems were needed to test the subject's reaction to the virus and to the enhancement. The immediate permanent upgrade Bourne and the others had sustained, had been beyond risky, because in fact, Hirsch had no clue about the possible side effects, neither he had proof they would have even survived it. Treadstone operatives, apparently, had been expandable.

The real difference between the two projects, however, had been the enhancement of the cognitive abilities, which had been the main purpose of Outcome. Marta, though, was quite sure now that the program goal wasn't an improvement of scientific research: the blue pills were just a replacement of Treadstone mind control techniques. Theoretically, in the field, Aaron's abilities should have been superior than Jason's, but she definitely suspected that they were just the same: what genetic engineering hadn't given to Bourne, brainwashing had. On a medical level, there was a huge gap between the two men, but for the purpose of their work their effectiveness was probably the same: behavior modification, combined with his training, had made Jason as single minded as possible, programming his mind to put all of its strengths in only one direction. The programs had basically used opposed methods, upgrading versus degrading, but the wanted result had been identical: the creation of lethal human weapons. From this perspective, Outcome had been an improvement because the dependence from the pills had gave the NRAG a better control over the participants: brainwashing effects were unpredictable, as Bourne himself demonstrated, and it was impossible to say if or when they would fade. The addiction to the chems was another story though, since it had made the agents willing participants with a perfect control over their actions: compared to Treadstone assets, they were way more reliable.

Marta stared at the envelope on the table, she took it in her hands to close it: Rudolph would come soon to take it and send it to Aaron. She shook her head in disapproval, her mind still busy recalling data and results, but she wasn't just a doctor anymore, she knew too many things now to reason only as a scientist: it wasn't hard for her to guess how probably both programs were considered as a failure by the NRAG. If Treadstone operatives had been unpredictable, Outcome agents had been way too vulnerable: they had been perfectly aware of what they had been doing and being their emotional side still intact, they had got their own controversial feelings to deal with. The psychological tool had been immense either way, a fact that Marta knew all too well, because she had been sharing a bed, a life with an agent: it was no mystery for her how much Aaron was torn in regards of his past, of the things he had done and who he had once been.

As usual, the thought made Marta's heart ache with sorrow and guilt. As usual, she pointlessly asked herself how it was even possible that after the hell he had been through, Aaron had turned in the wonderful man he was. And she knew that her opinion was far from being objective, that her rationality was questionable at best when it came to him, still it was undeniable that to her he had been always nothing but good and caring. Marta closed her eyes, sighing at the memories: she had seen him killing people in less than a blink of an eye, she had seen him building weapons out of nowhere or taking down guys twice his size. Yet, she had never been afraid of him, yet the thought of Aaron hurting her had never, ever crossed her mind. Marta shut her eyes open, as another realization sunk into her: she hadn't been scared of him even in Manila, even when he had suddenly appeared in her house in Maryland, and back then she hadn't even known his name. At the time she hadn't really had much of a choice but to follow him: why she had trusted him, though, was still out of her understanding.

Marta heard the knock at the door and Rudolph calling for her. She snapped back to reality and glanced at the folder on the table, then she frantically wrote something on another paper, before folding it and putting it in the envelope too. She smiled down at the item, then she approached the door: maybe, when she had first met Aaron outside of the lab, her instincts hadn't been all over the place. Maybe they had just understood instantly who that man really was.

* * *

Eric Byer didn't even registered his presence behind him. He didn't heard a single sound, he didn't notice anything: until he found himself being pinned against the window, his own head smashing against the glass, as an arm was suddenly crooked around his windpipe. He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe: Aaron though, didn't miss the terror in the colonel's eyes as he recognized his voice.

"They say asphyxiation is one of the most painful way to die.." Aaron slowly said, tightening his hold even more and keeping the man in place effortlessly "Personally though, I've always prefer to use weapons.." he pressed hard a gun against Byer's back, as to make his point clearer " Yeah, the blood usually makes a mess.. But you know.. It's a lot quicker.."

Cross loosened his grasp a little and Byer coughed, a tear of blood running down his forehead. Then the ex-agent abruptly turned him, pointing the gun at his chest, and he shoved him forcefully towards the near chair.

"Hands up. Sit there. Slowly.."

Still trying to regain his breath, Byer obliged, his eyes roaming around the room in search of the agents in charge of his security. Aaron noticed that and an icy smirk played at the corner of his lips.

"I took care of them already.." he explained, the he whispered, his tone a clear menace "It's just the two of us.."

The former colonel swallowed hard and nodded, defeated. He looked at Aaron right in the eyes, exhaling in resignation.

"Just do it, then..Isn't that what you want?"

Cross ignored him completely and studied the surroundings for a moment, the gun still firmly pointed at the other man. "You have a nice place, Sir.. I bet your family just loves it.." he glanced back at him, smiling coldly "How are they, by the way?"

Aaron didn't miss the shudder of fear ripping throughout Byer. Nor the shaken, pleading tone of his voice as he begged him for mercy.

"Please.." Eric, said "They have nothing to do with this.."

The ex-assets chuckle amused, trailing the man off. "It amazed me, you know, that you don't want your family to get involved.. Yet, you didn't think twice about other people's families.." he paused, shaking his head sadly "The doctors at the lab, what about them? They had children too, they had parents, friends.. And you just killed them.."

"I didn't do that.." Byer replied, trying to deny it, but his usual confidence was gone.

"No, you just made someone else do your dirty work..As you always do.." Aaron calmly retorted. He picked up a photo frame from the desk beside them and studied it for a second "it's really a shame your wife asked for the divorce.. But I guess it's better than watching her die at the hands of one of your guys.." he stated, staring at the other man, waiting for him to fully realized what he had just said.

Aaron caught the glimpse of surprise in Byer's gaze as it flickered to his wedding ring. And that made his stomach lurch, as the glare could have poisoned the little object that meant so much to him, as his eyes could have taken away its preciousness. Aaron suddenly felt the anger rushing through his vein, he felt the pain, the frustration, the guilt: this man was not going to take anything from him anymore. His entire posture visibly tensed, a panther waiting in the darkness to strike.

Eric tensed too, noticing his deadly mood. He didn't miss a beat though, his voice still steady and calm. Even without the slightest of the chances, Byer was still provoking him.

"It amazed me.." he said, mocking Cross previous words "that you're so mad now.. You know, if you hadn't been yourself a part of Outcome I would have sent you to kill those people, not Foite..I would have sent you to kill Doctor Shearing.." he shook his head, a glint of triumph in his eyes as Aaron's jaw visibly clenched at his statement "And you would have done it.. You never failed the dirty work.. If I had told you so, you would have made her scream and beg for her life.."

Aaron's vision became a blur. He roughly smacked the man in the face with his gun and the unmistakable sound of a bone breaking filled the room. He slammed the colonel on the desk, his head hitting hard on it and Cross heard his loud gasp of pain. He kept him in place pressing his elbow against his back, the glock hardly pressed on Byer's neck, red droplets covering the wooden surface. He was about to hit him again, when he caught the sounds of footstep from the other room and glanced at the door: Bourne was standing there.

Byer saw him too " What the hell.." he hissed, but he didn't have the time to finish as Aaron smacked him down once more.

"See.." Aaron whispered in his ear "He gave me a very good advice.. I guess you knew Abbot, didn't you..Apparently it worked for him.." he pulled from his pocket a recorder and put it under Byer's nose "It's working for you too.. Except you are not going to be suicidal.."

Another guy approached Jason at the doorframe: he was wearing an FBI bulletproof vest and Aaron guessed he was probably O'Malley's man. As reading his mind, Jason nodded lightly at him.

The colonel spotted him too, still pressed against the desk and he slammed his fists on the table to claim the agent's attention.

"Jeff.. What are you doing? Shoot him.."

Aaron laughed and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, he made the man stood. He shoved violently him into the wall, he chuckled "I'm sorry.. He's with us.."

Understanding sunk into Byer: he glanced at the recorder, then at Jeff. In a split second, he realized that he had just confirmed his involvement with Foite's psychotic breakdown and Shearing assassination, he realized the FBI had been spying on him. This whole situation could mean only one thing and Outcome 5 probably wasn't there to kill him. He looked down at the floor, then at Cross and his intention became quite obvious to everyone in the room: he wasn't going to cooperate.

"Pull the trigger, soldier.." He commanded.

Aaron knew the man was just trying to piss him off, he knew that by shooting him he would have probably done the guy a favor, which was the last thing he wanted. But his hand tightened around the gun anyway and from the corner of his eyes, he saw Bourne reaching for his own weapon. He vaguely heard his own name being insistently repeated, other words being screamed at him, Jason slowly getting closer and closer to his spot.

"Pull the trigger, soldier.." Byer shouted once more. Seeing no resolution, he insisted, trying to change tactic "You know I'm right..You would have killed her..And after all, it is your fault.. you brought her there, you put her in harm's way.."

Aaron registered Jason's voice yelling at Byer to stop, he saw the ex-CIA agent pointing his gun at him: he knew the guy would have fired with no hesitation. It didn't matter though, because his mind was too busy elaborating images from his nightmares: Marta's dress stained in blood, the little girl dying in her lap. He cringed: in his entire life as an agent, he had never been more aware of the sensation of the trigger underneath his finger. It would have been so simple: it would have been the end.

"Pull the trigger, soldier… You know right? You know what you are: a killer, a sin-eater.." Byer hissed.

Aaron felt Jason's gun pressed against his skin, he felt the colonel hatred, angry gaze studying his face. But it didn't matter, it didn't matter at all, because another sound, another life, another feeling, popped into his mind: _"You know right? You know that I love you"_. And as the flashes from his dreams were suddenly gone, replaced by Marta's voice echoing in his head, Aaron trembled: she had never loved a killer, she just loved a man. And he had always believed her, he had always got the concept: still, right then, it was like he finally understood what those words really meant: she loved him. In that moment, something in Aaron broke beyond repair. He felt relief washing all over him, because that was something he didn't want anymore. It didn't belong to him.

Aaron closed his eyes, sighing, then he dropped the weapon on the floor.

* * *

Hours later, when Eric Byer was finally locked in the safe house and the FBI was bursting into the NRAG building, Aaron laid exhausted on the bed. This time, when he fell asleep no nightmares came. He dreamt about the blonde, little girl: she took his hand, then she smiled at him.


	19. Chapter 19

I don't know why this chapter came out this way and I wasn't so sure about posting it. I didn't have anything like that in mind, but then I listened to the song Over the Love by Florence + The Machine and I wrote this.. It's a bit different from the rest of the story, but I hope you'll like it anyway..

Thanks for reading..:D

* * *

A week after Eric Byer had been taken into custody, Aaron opened the envelope from Marta. He flipped through the pages, absently nodding, their content a confirmation of his and Bourne's suspicions. He sighed, then his eyes caught a piece of paper carefully folded among the files, his name written atop of it.

He read it once, twice, then a third time. There wasn't really much to read, it was nothing more than two, short lines. Two short lines that meant everything to him.

Aaron put the papers back in the folder, except the note she had written for him. He read it again, then he put it into the inside pocket of his jacket. He wondered how it was even possible: with thousands of miles in between, she still knew exactly what he needed.

Blue and green chems were gone. She was his addiction. There was no viraling off from her: it would never be.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Marta slowly sat on the chair, ignoring the stares from Rose and Nadira. The pity glance: she was getting used to it.

People kept asking and she couldn't stand it anymore: where he was, why he wasn't there, when he would be coming back. The lie she had told, about some job related issues keeping him away, was no longer believable. Rudolph was the only one knowing the truth, at least a part of it: they were in troubles and Aaron was trying to fix it. The unspoken rule of their friendship had prevented the man to inquire any further, but that didn't apply to other people who had no clue about what was going on. And Marta was getting tired of it. A couple of times, she had tried to answer with the story Aaron had suggested: they had broken up and he had left her. The words had always died unuttered on her lips: she couldn't bring herself to say them. Betrayal, that was what they were: she would have never, ever done that to him.

Nadira was saying something about her need to rest, Rose kept shaking her head in disapproval, but Marta was barely listening. How could she possibly explain her blind faith in him? How could she explain her undoubted certainty he would never leave or forget? She couldn't. So, she just stayed silent.

Once, there had been the chems, but Marta had never been addicted to them. She had been infected anyway: not green, not blue, but black as his soul and red as the blood on his hands. And there was no viraling off from him: it would never be.

* * *

"You should go.." Bourne said to Cross "You should disappear and go back to her.."

The man shook his head "I can't.. you know it.."

Other two weeks had passed. Two weeks Aaron, Jason and Nicky had spent buried in some of the documents the FBI had retrieved from Byer's office. A strings of names, places, murders: their job was to assess the missions of every participant, of every program. It wasn't a difficult task for them: they knew perfectly how that kind of things worked.

In the meantime, Pamela Landy and Fred O'Malley were trying their best to contain collateral damage and possible leaks of information to the press. The official story was that the NRAG had been involved with Treadstone: the other projects still didn't exist for the public and they had every intention to keep things that way. It worked at their advantage because, as expected, the big heads behind everything were using Byer as a scapegoat: little they knew, that they were next on the list. The former colonel and his staff were under protective custody in different locations, monitored 24/7: he might have been left on his own, still no one trusted him, no one trusted a single word he said.

For Aaron though, Eric Byer was just the reason why he was still there: even now, the man was dangerous and if he had left, troubles would have followed him. And Aaron had also a new, unpleasant duty: Pamela had just informed him that Byer had agreed to cooperate. At one condition: he would only talk to him. Needless to say, he didn't like it, at all: he wasn't sure what the man wanted, but he had no doubt he had no intention to help them. Most likely, Byer last wish was just to play a little bit more with him.

Aaron sighed at the thought, than glanced at Jason.

"I need a favor.." he said, handing him a little piece of paper. Bourne studied him briefly, but he didn't read the item.

"It's an address in Italy..We use that for our.. correspondence.." Aaron explained, chuckling at his own words. Then, his expression went serious "If anything happens.." he whispered "just.. let her know.."

Aaron looked as Jason nodded and made the paper disappear. He closed his eyes: he didn't really want a stranger to send her a letter of condolence. He just wanted to go back to her.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Marta studied Rudolph from her spot in the kitchen, the man busy carrying boxes in her house. In the latest days, he had helped her gathering things she would need for the baby: a crib, clothes, a stroller. She should have been thrilled, joyful, but she wasn't. She couldn't be, not like this. Marta loved their daughter, even if she wasn't even born yet, still she was terrified: she was on her own. Chances were, she would be on her own for a long time.

To refrain the desperation, Marta had avoided to be alone as much as she could, because solitude usually led to over thinking. She was spending a great amount of time with Rudolph and she kept wondering if she would ever be able to repay her debt with him: the man had helped them in every possible way. Marta trusted him because he was a good man, while Aaron trusted him because clearly he knew his way around, a skill certainly not achieved during his time as a priest. Aaron had many guesses about his true identity, but neither he or Marta cared about his past: they were in no position to judge.

Marta watched the man in his kitchen. She thought about all the things he had done for them and finally, the curiosity got the best of her.

"Are you really a priest?" she asked.

"Are you really married?" Rudolph retorted, without losing a beat. He threw her a knowing glance, but it was warm and friendly. It was just a reminder of their unspoken rule: no questions.

He sat next to her, they shared a brief laugh, then he softly squeezed her shoulder.

"When he comes back.." Rudolph eventually said "And he will be back.." he added reassuringly "Maybe I should marry the two of you for real.."

Marta smiled thankfully at Rudolph, but she didn't' say anything. She didn't really want a wedding: she just wanted Aaron back.

* * *

That night, he played the what if game. What if had never joined Outcome, what if he had died in Alaska, what if he had turned off an assignment, even just once?

He would have never met her. And he knew he should have felt guilty about it, but he just couldn't: he would have done everything all over again.

He had met many women in his life. In the best case scenario they had been part of a cover, a mean to an end. In the worst, they had been a target, someone whose trust he had to betray. He remembered June Monroe, the closest thing he had ever had to a girlfriend. He had liked her, a lot. Too bad, she hadn't been his girlfriend, but Ryan Finley's girlfriend. Too bad she hadn't really been June Monroe, but a sleeping Iranian agent on US soil. Too bad, that after four months living together, he had to shoot her in cold blood.

He remembered Marta, their endless nights together. Not Ryan, Frank, or whoever else: endless night when he had just been himself. He remembered how he had used to claim her body, a starving animal seeking something he wasn't sure how to name. It didn't matter, not to him, because words were only lies and that was exactly why he had never used them with her: he couldn't lie to her. She had moaned, she had smiled, she had touched him back: not Ryan, not Frank, or whoever else. She had been with him. And day by day, she had gifted him with something he had always thought as forever lost: she had given him his dignity back.

He had been many different persons: she had never cared about any of them. Underneath it all, she had found the good, little boy he had been in another lifetime, she had found a man still capable of feelings.

But if words were only lies, feelings were deadly weapons.

OoOoOoOoOoO

That night, she played the what if game. What if she had never joined the program, what if Foite had killed her too, what if she had taken the money and left him behind in Manila?

It was pointless to wonder. She had no choice to make and she was glad of that. Once she had been a scientist, she had been the steady voice of reason: and every single time, reason had failed her. She remembered her life before, her books, the time she hadn't spent with her sister. She remembered the lab, Outcome 5 counting backwards in Russian, a big empty house in the woods. . She remembered Peter, her fiancé, how they been planning their wedding. Too bad that they had measured their happiness only with what they owned. Too bad that her job had been way more exciting than him. She had plenty of possibilities back then: every time she had picked the wrong one

She thought about Aaron, about how he had turned her world upside down. She lied in their bed, in his spot in their bed, pictures of his body against hers in mind. Their relationship had always been very physical: it was his way of explaining himself to her and she had accepted it. She had enjoyed it, she had been wild, she had done things with him she had never done before. It had never felt wrong, not once. Unfolding into his arms, had always been the most natural thing in the world.

Aaron was the choice she had never made. Undoubtedly, he was the best one.

* * *

His meetings with Byer where leading nowhere and Aaron was getting tired of it.

The man was doing nothing but taunting him, playing with him. The first time, the colonel had teased him about Kenneth and the state home, the second and the third about the mission in Kandahar and the innocents he had killed. Aaron had remained calm, he had kept asking him questions the man hadn't answered, he had ignored his accusations. Until two hours ago.

Two hours ago, during their latest conversation, Byer had made a huge mistake: he had mentioned Marta. He had asked about their private life, he had viciously asked if the agent had forced her with him, if he had been violent with her. Aaron had broken his nose, he had smacked the colonel's head so hard in the wall, the man had lost consciousness. And if Pamela and Bourne hadn't burst into the room, he would have likely killed the man with his bare hands. He wished he had done that.

Now, as Landy was lecturing him about his need to keep his temper in check, Aaron couldn't refrain his exasperation anymore.

"He's playing with us.." he hissed angrily at the woman.

"I know that.." Pamela replied, tiredly.

"And have you asked yourself why?" Aaron shot back "He doesn't care about me..He doesn't give a crap.. He's taunting me just to buy himself some time.."

"I know that too.." the woman retorted calmly "But we monitor everything he does or say.. He hasn't spoken with anyone from the outside.. He won't go anywhere and he won't do anything.."

Pamela left the room, leaving him alone with his own anger. Aaron watched as she closed the door behind her: he wished she was right. How much he wished that.

He would have prayed any kind of god to let that be true. But he was an assassin: he had never been a believer.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Marta hadn't heard anything from Aaron, she had no idea where he was or how he was. By now, she had gotten so accustomed to her silent fears that she didn't even bother to try to shake them away anymore.

Abasi smiled brightly to her as she squeezed tightly his hand. He was the only one, apart from her, who was still waiting for him. Every day, right before sunset, the kid sat next to her outside the ambulatory, watching expectantly down the street: it was their secret, little game. It was their secret, little hope.

"Do you think he'll bring me a gift?" Abasi asked.

Marta looked at the kid, she noticed the robot Aaron had given him in his hands. She smiled.

"I'm sure he will.." she answered.

The boy frowned, staring at his feet. The hesitancy in his voice made Marta tremble "Are you sure he'll come back?"

She nodded lightly, words failing her. They didn't speak at all for the rest of the evening.

* * *

Marta missed touching him, his arms, his muscular chest, his face.

She had used to trace her fingers on his palm, on his leg, on his shoulder, where scars should have been, but weren't. His skin was smooth and perfect to the touch: she knew that the pain his body couldn't acknowledge, lingered heavy on his heart.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Aaron missed touching her, her soft hips, her sweet mouth, her silky thighs.

He had used to trace his mouth on her bare back, her fair skin reminding him of the innocence they had both lost. He had made her shiver and whimper: he had just wanted to give her something, anything, in return.

* * *

Another month went by and one morning Aaron started counting the days. He was too afraid to admit why he was doing that.

OoOoOoOoOoO

Marta looked at the calendar, counting the days: it wouldn't be long. She caressed her belly tenderly, smiling brightly. As usual, after a moment, the smile faded: she desperately wondered if he would ever see his daughter.

* * *

On Friday morning, Aaron was pacing restlessly through the room, glancing back and forth between Pamela and O'Malley.

The night before the FBI had finally burst into the Candent Group building and off course, they hadn't find what they had looked for. To make matters even worse, an hour later, Pamela Landy had been ambushed outside a coffee shop and it had been only a fortunate coincidence that Aaron and Jason had been there too. Two unknown guys were now dead, but at least Pam was unharmed. It hadn't escaped anyone though, how things were slowly turning against them.

"Now it would be a good time to tell us who are you working for.." Bourne told Landy.

"No, no, scratch that.. I want to know who _we_ are working for.." Aaron interrupted. They still had no idea who had authorized the investigation, who Pamela responded to. Both men had inquired her many times about it, but they had never got an explanation.

"Tomorrow you are going to speak with Byer again.." the woman said to Cross, ignoring completely what the former agents had just asked.

Aaron didn't lose a beat and laughed coldly at her "Okay.. You don't want to tell us? You want me to talk again with him? That's fine.. But let me tell you this.. I'm sick and tired of this game.. So.. If tomorrow he tells me something, anything I do not like..If he even tries to mention Marta again..I'll just break his neck this time.."

Aaron hastily left the room. Outside, he closed his eyes, the bright light of the morning, blinding him: one way or another, he knew the end was coming.

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

On Friday night, Marta was sitting outside her house, watching down the street alone. She sighed to herself, she put the book she was reading away and reached for the bottle of juice beside her.

Abasi hadn't come.

* * *

The next day, Aaron stood in front of Byer.

He stared at the man and he didn't like what he saw. A smug, cruel grin danced at the corner of the colonel's lips.

"I guess that enhanced or not, you are still not that smart.." Byer murmured.

Aaron had only a second to register the gun pointed at him.

Aaron didn't know that on the other side of the planet, Marta had just gone into labor.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

Marta cradled her sleeping, beautiful baby in her arms.

She was exhausted and her body ached everywhere. She didn't care: the little, precious thing she was holding, was the most amazing sight she had ever seen.

Marta didn't know that on the other side of the planet, Eric Byer had just shot Aaron twice in the chest.


End file.
